SideTrekked: To Boldly Go
by Brother Bludgeon
Summary: Not the fastest ship, or the best armed. Definitely not the prettiest. But every soul on board would do anything to see this ship through the dangers that lie ahead. Even when the ship is REALLY asking for it. Now with Bonus Features!
1. The Ron Trap

**BOLDLY GO**

"The Ron Trap"

transitions from one space to another are indicated with a  
OOOOO**whoosh**OOOOO

The holographic readout flashed, indicating all systems were reading green. The grey-shirted man at the console turned, the spider web network of veins across his bald head pulsating ever so slightly.

"Captain, the ship is ready to embark," he said in an almost bored monotone.

"Thank you, Mr. Frege." said the man seated in a nearby raised chair, his gold uniform decorated at the chest and upper arms. "Lieutenant Propriov, set a course for secondary home base."

"Aye, Captain," answered the younger man in red sitting at the front, as he input their destination. "Course is set."

"Mr. Luloni, take us out."

"Yes, sir," said the red-shirted man next to the young lieutenant. "I'm really feeling good about this time, Sir."

"Heard that one before," Propriov muttered quietly as he proceeded to strap himself into his station.

The captain smiled but gave no other indication that he'd heard. Knowing it would be at least a few minutes before they arrived at the secondary base for refueling, he casually pressed a button on his chair's miniature console.

"Captain's log, 7032.3" his calm baritone voice spoke into the built-in recording device. "I find myself in a rare, quiet moment aboard this ship. I'd like to take this time to pause and reflect, something I'd been hoping to do much earlier, in light of this vessel's recent anniversary. Eighteen years… my God, has it really been that long?"

He paused for a moment, stroking his chin. Behind him, in a rather form-fitting pink uniform, a young woman stood, clearly waiting for the captain to finish. She had to force herself not to absent-mindedly tug at the hem of her uniform's uncomfortably short skirt. It was a futile effort, she'd learned. Any attempts to preserve the modesty of her upper thighs would only allow the one-piece dress to show even more of her cleavage.

"Eighteen years and four days ago, this ship was launched into active duty. Not the fastest ship, or the best armed, but with a service record that speaks for itself. In no way the prettiest, but with … undeniable charm, a sort of magnetic attraction that pulls you in at first glance. I'm not the first man to fill this seat. I only hope, when the time comes, I can step down as graceful-

**VVWOOO VVWOOO VVWOOO VVWOOO VVWOOO **

"Mr. Luloni, report!" shouted the captain, pausing the recording device as the sirens sounded and the warning lights flashed.

"Slight problem, Captain," answered the helmsman, weakly.

"Of course," sighed the captain as he raked his hands back through his mess of unruly blond hair in a clear gesture of frustration. "Mr. Frege, how slight?"

With obviously practiced ease, the Science Officer called up the appropriate diagnostic protocols. Warnings flared in bright, insistent red.

"Stabilizers have failed to compensate, Captain," he said, calmly. "This ship is now completely out of control. Crash is imminent."

Instead of shock at the lack of panic in Frege's prognosis, the captain slumped in his chair and shook his head slowly. With a sigh, he swiveled his chair to the right so he could face the man in the far corner. Headset and channels already set, the red-shirted officer knew the order was coming but, as always, waited on the captain to give it.

"Lt. Indlebe…" he began, his voice barely more animated than Frege's had been, "Alert all decks, brace for impact."

"Yes, Captain," he said, before speaking into the open channel. "Attention, all decks brace for impact."

"Damn it, Rick," came an irate shout from one of the rooms down the main corridor. "I'm a doctor, not a _crash test dummy_!"

In one of the lower decks, a heavy set man in a red uniform looked up from his work.

"**REPEAT, ALL DECKS BRACE FOR IMPACT!"**

"0730 hours already, is it?" he said in a thick Scottish accent, not needing to look at his chronometer. "Ach bless me… Where does the time go?"

With a sigh, he replaced the tools on his belt and strapped himself into a nearby seat.

Back on the command deck, everyone, with the exception of the lady officer in pink, were secured in their seats. She looked around unsuccessfully for an empty seat, until her eyes came to rest on the captain. With an almost expectant look, he made a very subtle gesture towards the open space on his lap. Cursing herself for even leaving her quarters, she reluctantly sat down. His arms circled her waist, to brace her of course. No sooner had she sat down, than the whole ship was rocked by a massive collision. Lights flickered, consoles sparked, the captain's hands accidentally drifted a little too far upwards, followed by an accidental elbow to his face. In moments, everything was still again. When it was clear the ship had settled, captain and crew removed their restraints, all looking more annoyed than afraid.

"Snatus repoht, Mistuh Frenge," said the captain, rubbing his sore nose.

"All systems back online, Captain," Frege answered, no more lively after the crash than before it. "We can be under way in the next few seconds."

Lt. Commander Luloni sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck, glad the chair at his station was turned away from the rest. He didn't have to look to his left to know that the navigator was glaring lasers at him.

"Don't worry too much about it, Mr. Luloni," offered the captain, doing his best to sound sympathetic. "At this point, it just isn't morning 'til we've had a good crash. Better than coffee."

Luloni winced, but managed a smile and a mumbled agreement. Quickly, he added a "Sir" at the end, just to be safe.

"Just get us back on course," he continued, showing no real anger. "We're behind schedule for the refuel and they'll scan us for external damages when we get to base."

They were moving again in less than a minute, the crew rapidly recovering from the latest of a few thousand crashes. Frege ran more diagnostics, discretely marveling at the resilience of the otherwise unimpressive ship. Propriov didn't bother removing his restraints as he focused on his duties, plotting a course he hoped even _this_ navigator couldn't screw up. The young woman brushed herself off before attempting to fix her uniform without flashing everyone on the bridge. She succeeded, sending a frustrated sigh through the room, which she tried desperately to ignore.

"I was doing something before we crashed," mused the captain, reminding the woman what had brought her to the bridge to begin with. "What was it? You see, that's what I hate about the crashes. _Completely_ throw me off my game."

"Captain Haupt," said the female officer, as politely as she could manage. "There's something I think you and I need to discuss, and I would appreciate it if we could get to it before you start another log entr-"

"That's what it was!" exclaimed the captain, with a snap of his fingers. "Don't know what I'd do without you Counselor Sofia. Captain's Log, _supplemental_..."

Haupt had already pressed the button before she could say another word. Sofia just stood there, not sure whether to slap the man or just return to the quarters and let the whole ship go to hell. She knew she'd decide on neither, as usual, no matter how appealing it would be knock some sense into the man. All that mattered was what was best for the ship that had, against all logic, begun to feel like a home. After a few deep breaths, she took a step back, deciding to wait until the captain had finished. She listened quietly as he continued.

"… As was mentioned in the previous entry, this vessel has celebrated its eighteen years of service, but not with pomp and circumstance. Not with speeches or commemorative plaques. No, the fates sent this crew into a baptism of fire. The attack was swift, brutal, and it took every ounce of our might, our wit, and our will to drive our enemy back to the fell, putrid pit that spawned them."

The counselor bowed her head. The invasion four days prior was the worst she'd seen since she'd come aboard a little more than a year earlier. Many good men had risked their lives and it was a miracle the casualties were so low. Of those that died, she hadn't known any of them that well, but she felt they deserved better… at the very least, they deserved a better speech. It took everything in her not to start giggling at the captain's soliloquy. Then, unexpectedly, Captain Haupt's speech took a different turn.

"Some of us didn't live to see the sun rise on the first days of our eighteenth year. We miss them, we honor them, but, more than anything, we'll keep doing what it was that got them killed in the first place. We'll defend this ship, and each other, out of pride and out of love. My name is Richard C. Haupt and I am privileged to serve as captain of the _H.S.S. Ron Stoppable_."

"Sir, we've arrived at Secondary Home Base. Initiating docking procedures as we speak"

The navigator's voice snapped the captain and the counselor out of their trances, both of them snapping their eyes up to the main view screen.

"What?" demanded the captain, clearly confused. "When?"

"Somewhere around 'fell, putrid pit,' Captain," answered Frege, not showing even the slightest smirk.

Sofia mentally kicked herself, knowing she'd have to wait even longer to voice her concerns. The base opened, revealing a comfortingly familiar fixture at the _Ron_'s second home.

"Captain," announced Mr. Indlebe, "we're being hailed."

OOOOO**whoosh**OOOOO

"_Good morning, Ron," _

"_And a muy bueno morning to you, Mrs. Dr. P!" answered Ron, more cheerful than he'd been in days. "And it'll be even more bueno when you tell me there's pancake goodness to spare." _

_The elder lady Possible laughed as she led the young man to the breakfast table. After she'd seated Ron at his usual place, she put a six-high stack of pancakes on a plate and set it in front of her unofficial third son. She turned to grab the butter and syrup from where she'd set them after the rest of her family had finished eating._

"_Well, you could smell breakfast all the way from the front porch and…" began Anne Possible, stopping short for a moment as she turned back to see an empty plate in front of the skinny blond. "And it looks like your appetite is back en force. I think it's safe to say you're over that little bug." _

"_Ooh butter and syrup, thanks Mrs. Dr. P, that'll go great with the next stack," said Ron as he helped himself to another six, thus saving his other favorite family from dealing with any leftovers. "Ah, yes. The Stoppable fortress of immunity comes through in the clinch once again. No sickness stands a chance!" _

_The red-headed matron smiled and shook her head, watching as the teen polished off the last of the pancakes with all the quiet dignity and refinement of a rabid hyena. A second look made her put on her doctors hat a few hours early. She grabbed Ron by the chin, holding him still so she could get a better look. On his forehead was a very light scrape, not even deep enough to bleed. She breathed a sigh of relief tinged with frustration as she let go of his face and started to clear the table with Ron's help, which by itself was a pleasant surprise. _

"_So, how many times did you fall down on the way here?" asked Anne, in a tone that suggested she was mostly asking him out of habit. _

"_Just the one," answered Ron, casually. "Tripped over a rake that I know I put in the garage. If I'm lying, may I never eat another naco."_

"_Huhn, nacos?" came a tired squeak from one of Ron's cargo pockets. _

_Any other day, Rufus would've been out the second his human had uttered the word "pancakes," but the faithful little rodent had been at the boy's bedside for three days and four nights, seeing him through the worst of it. Even the mention of the cheese filled, artery-clogging food of the gods had only managed get his attention for a few seconds before he rolled over and fell back to sleep. _

"_I know I can't prove it, but I have motive and opportunity." Ron continued, with growing determination in his voice. "That garden gnome is going down."_

"_Good morning, Ronald," said a friendly male voice. _

"_Morning, Mr. Dr. P!" replied Ron, as he finished drying his dish. _

"_I heard you say you fell down this morning," said James. "And then I heard you blame it on inanimate yard sculpture. I take it that means your feeling better."_

"_You know it," said Ron, grinning. "Ron the man is back in action! Eighteen and bon-diggity diggin' it."_

"_Congratulations again, Ron," offered Mrs. Dr P as she put away the last of the mixing bowls. "I know it's not fair that you had to spend a milestone like this confined to bed rest, but it's so wonderful to see that you're not letting it get you down." _

"_That was a real shame," her husband added, reaching for the morning edition. "First Kimmie-cub, then you? Talk about strange coincidences. I mean, you couldn't have caught it from her, right Ronald? She never left her room once the whole time she was sick, and we made sure to turn this place into a Possible family quarantine lockdown. Only way you could've gone up to see her would've been sneaking through her bedroom window after we'd all gone to sleep."_

OOOOO**whoosh**OOOOO

**VVWOOO VVWOOO VVWOOO VVWOOO VVWOOO **

"**COUNTDOWN TO TOTAL ANNIHILATION, 30 SECONDS AND COUNTING!"**

**VVWOOO VVWOOO VVWOOO VVWOOO VVWOOO **

OOOOO**whoosh**OOOOO

**Humanity, the final frontier. These are the voyages of the Homo Sapiens Ship **_**Ron Stoppable**_**. His long-standing mission: To coin strange new catch-phrases. To seek out new foods and odd ways to combine them. To boldly go where a red-headed cheerleader has gone before…**

OOOOO**whoosh**OOOOO

To Be Continued in…

"Breakfast of Terror"

Authors Note: I've spent a few months telling a couple of you what I think about your stories, and now I've got one of my own. Honestly hope you find it palatable, considering you had to read through about three quarters of it before you ran into a single thing about Kim Possible. Chapters from now on deal with Ron-related stuff directly. Reviews are appreciated. Take the time to leave one, I'll take the time to reply.  
Additional Note: This first Chapter has been edited for content due to graphic logic errors.

All blessings to you from the house of unending contusions,

-Brother Bludgeon

_Kim Possible_ created by Mark McCorkle and Robert Schooley.  
_Star Trek_ created by Gene Roddenberry


	2. Breakfast of Terror

**Boldly Go**

"Breakfast of Terror"

OOOOO**whoosh**OOOOO

"_I mean, you couldn't have caught it from her, right Ronald? She never left her room once the whole time she was sick, and we made sure to turn this place into a Possible family quarantine lockdown. Only way you could've gone up to see her would've been sneaking through her bedroom window after we'd all gone to sleep."_

OOOOO**whoosh**OOOOO

**VVWOOO VVWOOO VVWOOO VVWOOO VVWOOO **

"**COUNTDOWN TO TOTAL ANNIHILATION, 30 SECONDS AND COUNTING!"**

**VVWOOO VVWOOO VVWOOO VVWOOO VVWOOO **

"Somebody get me a damage report, now!"

"Multiple systems failing! Looks like the Amygdale Conduit seized up again, and I'm reading damages to logic circuits and… the higher cognitive functions… and… damn! I'm losing Communications!"

"I'm reading tremors all over the ship. If we don't do something we're going to shake ourselves apart!"

"Game over, man, _game over_! We're all gonna DIE!!!"

Sofia stood, staring wide-eyed at the activity around her. Officers were scrambling from one station to another, knocking into each other every few seconds as they sprinted across the small room. At his station, Lt. Indlebe was working furiously, relaying communiqués from all over the ship. Even the captain looked like he was about to jump out of his skin, beads of sweat pouring down his forehead onto his freckled cheeks.

"Don't you think you all might be overreac-" the young counselor began before she was cut off by another barrage of alarms.

**VVWOOO VVWOOO VVWOOO VVWOOO VVWOOO **

"**COUNTDOWN TO TOTAL ANNIHILATION, 25 SECONDS AND COUNTING!"**

**VVWOOO VVWOOO VVWOOO VVWOOO VVWOOO **

"… Overreacting, just a little?" Sofia finished, rubbing her temples. "And can we _please_ do something about those alarms?"

"Mr. Indlebe, it's safe to say we're all on full alert," said Capt. Haupt, his ears still ringing. "You can kill the alarms. And, I doubt our little boat can handle himself very well in deep space, so let's get ship-to-ship Communications back online before we have to find out the hard way. Now, Counselor Sofia, I know you haven't been running missions on the _Ron_ as long as the rest of us, so I can't expect you to understand what we're up against."

"Up against?" she repeated, barely suppressing her outrage. "This isn't some enemy warship we're talking about. The _Dadd_… I mean the _James Possible_ would never attack a friendly ship."

"Captain, I've got it running!" Indlebe said, hurriedly. "But there's no telling how long it'll hold."

"I really do hope you're right, Counselor," the captain said softly, before turning his chair to the lieutenant's COM station. "Open communication channels with the _Mr. Dr. P_… and start praying."

OOOOO**whoosh**OOOOO

"_Yeah, that is some freaky coincidence," answered Ron, with an uneasy chuckle. "With the birthday… and the quarantine… and the germ passing along… thingie, heh heh. See, I uh… with the thing… and…Kim…" _

"_Right," the elder Possible drawled, slowly lowering his paper to observe the young man tugging at the neck of his red jersey like he was trying to vent off steam. "So, Ronald, where do you think it was that you caught that nasty little bug?"_

OOOOO**whoosh**OOOOO

"What the **HELL** was that?" the captain shouted, gripping the arms of his chair until his knuckles blanched. "I thought you said we had Communications!"

"We did, Sir," Indlebe answered before quickly correcting himself. "I mean, we do. The panic's spreading too fast, and it's all I can do to keep the whole language matrix from crashing. Until we're clear of the danger, I might as well be trying to take down a _Villain_-class warship with a water pistol."

Haupt turned back to the main view screen, their surroundings whipping past as the Eyes shifted their focus every few seconds. Several crew members clamped their hands over their mouths, their stomachs lurching with every swing of the external surveillance. It would show the _Mr. Dr. P_, then to the _Mrs. Dr. P_, back to the _Mr_., then up to the ceiling, to the bowl of fruit on the table, and everywhere in between. Lt. Commander Luloni had his hand over his mouth as well, but that was mostly to keep himself from laughing. Try as he might, he couldn't shake the image of firing on a ship like the _Shego_ with a water gun. Sofia kept her eyes glued to the view screen, ignoring the lurch of her stomach. As the visual rested on the _Mr. Dr. P_, she felt her body shudder involuntarily. She remembered her previous commission, thinking back to her former ship's dealings with the vessel before her. Now, the older model ship seemed to radiate suspicion, and even the beginnings of malice, to the point that it was barely recognizable. Slowly, she began to understand her crewmates' terror.

"Captain," said Frege, his calm monotone totally out of place. "I speculate that the probability of further antagonizing the_ Mr. Dr. Possible _will increase exponentially with the elapsed time preceding our response."

"And the infeasibility of the verisimilitude will expectorate the inevitable differentiation," added Lt. Propriov with a scowl. "See, Veiny-head? I can use big complicated words to make myself feel smart, too. You know, all you had to say was 'Talk to the Doc soon, or we're boned' and we'd all get the message just fine. I bet you couldn't even say 'That apple is red' without dropping fifty school words. Try it, I dare you."

"Mr. Propriov, this isn't the time or the place for…" Capt. Haupt began before his eyes went wide.

"Oh, like it really matters," the navigator shot back. "Even if we weren't all about to die, I bet I could call him a salad-munching son of a monkey and he'd just stand there with that 'I'm so much better than everybody' look on his face."

"Lieutenant," the captain said, grinning. "We may just live long enough for you to test your theory. You just gave me an idea. Indlebe, Are the long-range audio sensors functional?"

"Aye, sir," the communications officer answered, barely getting the words out before returning his attention to the rapidly deteriorating verbal systems.

"Are we detecting anything from the Promised Land?" he asked, earning several questioning stares.

The lieutenant adjusted his headset before boosting the levels on his exterior audio, making sure the signal was focused on the upper level of secondary home base, the sector they had all come to affectionately call the Promised Land. He strained to hear anything worth reporting back to the captain, doing his best to ignore the heavy sigh from the young female officer behind him. Everyone onboard the _Ron_ knew she hated that particular nickname, but no one really cared enough to call it anything different. A few stray sounds scattered the officer's thoughts and he fiddled with the controls until he it came through clear and hauntingly familiar.

"Yes, Captain!" he announced, thrilled to finally have some good news. "From what I can hear, she's finished her launch prep and she's leaving the Promised Land as we speak, E.T.A. fourteen seconds."

"Excellent work, Mr. Indlebe," said Haupt, proudly. "That should give us just enough time. Now, I need to know, how many words can you give me before we lose that language matrix again?"

"Words, Sir?" he asked, clearly confused.

"How many words can you string together before the system craps out?"

"Well…" the lieutenant began, scanning the systems for the umpteenth time. "Arrgh! We've lost more than 85 percent. I can't fix this… I'm sorry, Sir, but I can't give you any more than three words before we lose it altogether."

"It'll have to do," the captain said after a moment. "Now, I want you to relay a set of orders on my mark. First, tell the eyes to lock on the _Mr. Dr. P_. Under no circumstances can they break contact unless he does it first. And normalize our respiration intervals. That should help stop the shaking."

OOOOO**whoosh**OOOOO

_Dr. James T. Possible was shocked. Suddenly, instead of nervously darting his eyes all over the room, his blond-haired pseudo son was staring him dead in the face. Since the two globe trotting teens had admitted their feelings and started dating, James, as the dutiful father, made sure that Ron knew exactly how serious he was about preserving his only little girl's virtue, and just how deep one wrong move might bury an unwary suitor. And yet here he was, locked eye to eye with the funny little boy his Kimmie-cub had brought home with her from Pre-K. And, for the first time since the Middleton Days carnival, he could swear he saw a man staring back at him, the kind of man he knew would show up one day and take his little girl away from him. _

_He'd always thought it was a crock, all the stress people put on milestones like birthdays. What grand transformation was supposed to take place between seventeen and eighteen, or between twenty and twenty-one for that matter? If his experience with this own eighteen-year-old counted for anything, it seemed like the only change in maturity was a humongous step backwards. Ever since his firstborn daughter's landmark birthday, she'd been acting more like a willful child than the responsible young woman he'd known for so long. But then, looking at Ron, he was starting to consider changing his position on the matter. Maybe some kids really do see a birthday as an opportunity to make a choice, to start living up to their own potential. The newspaper rested in the rocket scientist's hands, completely forgotten, as he waited for the young man to speak._

OOOOO**whoosh**OOOOO

"Good, very good," he mused, before turning away from the view screen once again. "Now for phase two: I want engineering to prep for emergency refuel."

"But, Captain, we just refueled two minutes ago," Indlebe said, hesitantly. "We won't be running low for at least another two hours, it's literally the least of our problems right now."

"Just trust me, Rae'Kwon," he said to the young officer. "We're about to find out if one of these things really can keep the doctor away…"

OOOOO**whoosh**OOOOO

"_Now, honey," said Mrs. Possible, hoping to rescue Ron from the staring contest. "How would he even know where he caught it? I don't always know where I've caught this or that, and that's with more than a decade's worth of medical experience behind me."_

"_It's not like I'm accusing him of anything," her husband answered without looking up, trying to sound casual but still convincing. "I was just saying it seems like a funny coincidence, him getting sick just when Kim was getting better. And don't sell Ronald short, hon. You'd be surprised how perceptive he can be when he wants to. Isn't that right, son?"_

_With a confident grin, Mr. and Mrs. Stoppable's only begotten son reached out and took an apple from the fruit basket on the table. He breathed on it, and then nonchalantly rubbed it against his shirt, never once taking his eyes off the man in front of him. Slowly, he nodded._

"_That's what I thought…" James, continued, a bit wary of the boys newfound confidence. "So, you know where you caught it, then?"_

_A single, slow nod._

"_So…" said the scientist, subconsciously leaning forward._

"_I caught it…" the boy began, before suddenly taking a massive bite from his apple. "Frmuh muh shnud dnosh mruuh mruh fruhushumruh!" _

_Bits of apple sprayed from his mouth with every syllable as Ron continued his lengthy explanation. Grateful for the quick reflexes he'd undoubtedly inherited from his mother, Mr. Possible managed to get his paper back up quick enough to shield him from the assault, though it came at a heavy price. The front of that Sports Page would never be the same. After a few moments of silence, he cautiously peered over the top. The young man's chin was dotted with pieces of uneaten apple, but his lips were stretched wide in a goofy, almost smug grin. Before either of them could say another word, there was a sound of recognizable footstep coming down the stairs. _

"_Ron!" said a voice that made music in the blond teen's larger than average ears. "I was worried you were still too sick to go to school."_

"_His appetite is healthy enough, if that counts for anything," answered Mrs. Dr. P, patting the human garbage disposal on the shoulder. _

"_Well, now that we have medical clearance, we'd better get going," Kim Possible suggested, grinning. "Thanks for the pancakes, Mom. It's nice to do the retro thing every once and a while." _

"_You're welcome, Sweetie," Mrs. Possible answered with a smile and a kiss on her daughter's cheek. "I like being able to do the homemaker thing and cook a meal from scratch for my family. That includes you, too, Mr. Fortress of Immunity. We're always happy to have you over. Aren't we, Dear?"_

"_Yes… happy," her husband answered, trying to shake a few particles of apple into the kitchen sink. "Actually, Ronald and I were just talking about-"_

"_That's great, Daddy," she said, standing on her tip toes to give him a quick kiss on his cheek before grabbing her best friend/boyfriend by the arm. "But we really have to go if we don't want to be late. Bye, Daddy. Bye, Mom. Love you!"_

"_Er, have a good day, Kimmie…" Mr. Dr. P began before his daughter practically flew out the front door, dragging Ron right behind her. "…cub." _

OOOOO**whoosh**OOOOO

The cheering had long since died down. All over the ship, crewmates were hard at work restoring the damaged equipment. Without the paralyzing fear to infect it, the various systems were up and running in moments. Few wanted to think about how close the captain had cut it, but they were all proud, just the same. Up in the Brain's central command deck, a few officers were still offering their congratulations while more came in through the communication channels.

"Captain," said Lt. Indlebe, toggling to the latest active signal indicator. "We have an incoming communication from one of the aft decks."

"I bet I know who it is," Haupt said with a smirk. "Patch it through."

"Aye, Sir," he answered, making the necessary adjustments.

"Captain Haupt, Sir" said the voice over the intercom in a very noticeable Scottish brogue. "This is Lieutenant Commander Scott MacDuffy here, speaking on behalf of all of us down in the Buttocks, Sir. We'd just wanted to thank you for keeping us out of that blasted space probe pilot's seat for another day."

"Glad to hear it, Duff," said the captain, warmly. "But we all know I'm not the one doing most of the work. In fact, if it wasn't for some pretty fancy clenching in one particular sector, there's no way we could've kept this ship sitting still."

"You're too modest, as always, Captain," the engineer said, with a chuckle. "Remember, Sir, we're always behind you, one hundred percent. MacDuffy out."

"Wouldn't have it any other way, Duff," said Haupt, softly.

OOOOO**whoosh**OOOOO

_Outside, the teen heroine didn't stop until the two of them were more than halfway down the block. Releasing his arm, she moved in and put her arms around his neck. He responded by putting his own arms around her slender waist, resting his hands on the small of her back. _

"_Okay, Birthday Boy, spill," she said, softly. "What were the two of you talking about that got my Dad so tweaked?" _

"_Good morning to you, too, KP," he answered, playfully. _

"_Ron…"_

"_Alright, alright," he relented. "Turns out it doesn't take a rocket scientist to figure out there's a connection between you getting sick and me catching the exact same thing, but I guess it helps a little."_

"_Ron," Kim said, trying her best not to overreact. "How much did you tell him about your 'birthday present'?" _

"_Tsk, tsk, tsk, Kimila," he said, shaking his head slowly. "I may not be famous for keeping secrets, but it'll take more than a little after-breakfast interrogation to make me crack. You invite me over for a little midnight make out session, nobody's gonna know but you, me, and… well, probably Wade, but that guy knows everything so he doesn't count. Yep KP, your lovin' man is built like Fort Knox."_

"_Oh, yeah?" she murmured, leaning in slightly. _

"_Oh, yeah," he answered softly as his eyes slid shut._

_Instead of the increasingly familiar feel of her velvet soft lips touching his, he felt something thin and wispy being pressed against his face. He opened his eyes to see that his longtime best friend had grabbed a tissue from a pouch in her cargoes, keeping it directly between him and a proper good morning. A groan that was almost a growl escaped his throat, eliciting a giggle from his lovely companion._

"_Wipe the crumbs off your mouth… Lovin' Man." _

OOOOO**whoosh**OOOOO

To Be Continued in…

"Assignment: Middleton High"

Authors Note: This chapter has been intensely liberating. Now that it's fairly obvious what's happening, I can focus more on the interplay between the in and out of body perspectives. And yes, before you ask, the apple bit was a blatant rip-off of those Twix commercials. I added spitting which is, I think, a lot more realistic.

All blessings to you from the path of pounding fists,

-Brother Bludgeon

_Kim Possible_ created by Mark McCorkle and Robert Schooley.  
_Star Trek_ created by Gene Roddenberry


	3. Assignment: Middleton High

**BOLDLY GO**

"Assignment: Middleton High"

OOOOO**whoosh**OOOOO

"_Um, Kim… it's not like I couldn't stand to burn off some of my excess naco reserves, but why the sudden urge to go all pedestrian?" Ron asked as the two teens continued walking along the familiar route to school._

"_Tweebs," she answered, not needing to explain further._

"_Sloth gets yet another upgrade. Yippee…" he said, frowning at the thought of new modifications for the car. "More buttons I won't be allowed to touch."_

"_Ron, four words: Surface. To. Air. Missiles." _

"_**Poorly-labeled**__ surface-to-air missiles, KP!" he said defensively. "I will not be held responsible for your brothers' artistic limitations. Besides, those buildings were practically falling down before we even got there." _

"_Right," she said with a roll of her eyes. "5,000-year-old ruins, __**so**__ not built to last."_

"_Exactly! I knew you'd be in my corner on this one." _

OOOOO**whoosh**OOOOO

"Mr. Propriov, estimated time of arrival?" asked Capt. Haupt, watching as the usual scenery passed the ship on either side.

"At our present rate and heading, and assuming we don't crash _again_…" the navigator began before pausing to glare at the man to his right, "we should reach our destination within the next nine minutes, Sir."

"Is that right?" mused the captain. "Mr. Frege, what's our status?"

"All systems functioning within normal parameters, Captain," answered a dull monotone nearby. "Ah, yes. I see your point. We are currently matching the_ Kimberly's _pace and yet, unlike previous voyages, the ship is under no observable strain. Fascinating..."

"I'd say the _Mr. B_ deserves most of the credit for that, Frege," the captain admitted, smirking.

Every man within earshot cringed at the mention of that ship's name. The massive vessel, originally designed for combat before being retired and repurposed as an impossibly versatile _Educator_-class craft, had left its mark on the Ron and all its crew. Recently, the_ Barkin_ had introduced the ship to a few new mobile configurations like the "wind sprint," the "bear crawl," and the unforgettable, no matter how hard they tried, "crab walk" configuration. The first attempt left more than a dozen men in the arms, legs, and back with temporary hearing loss, the ship's machinery was groaning so loud. The captain suddenly found himself hard pressed to find personnel to operate previously unmanned muscle groups. Of course, that's the kind of problem you want as a captain, Haupt thought, leaning back into his chair with a smile. A small cough sounded behind him. He swiveled his chair towards it, coming face to face with the ship's counselor.

"Counselor Sofia," said Haupt, sounding pleasantly surprised. "What brings you to my little corner of the brain this morning?"

"Actually, Captain," she said, trying to keep her voice even, "I've been here for the last _hour_, waiting to speak with you."

"Really?" asked the captain, eyebrow raised in confusion. "You should have said something sooner. I always make time for my crew."

"Sir…" she began, forcing herself to let her superior officer's comment slide.

OOOOO**whoosh**OOOOO

"_So, are you looking forward to the weekend?" asked Kim, changing topics._

"_Well, yeah," Ron answered, hesitantly. "Don't I always? No school, time off work, plenty of opportunities to get in some quality marinating… what's not to love?"_

"_Yes, but isn't there something special about this weekend?" she asked, trying to keep a casual tone. _

"_Hmmm… is there? Oh, yeah!" her best friend/boyfriend said with a snap of his fingers. "I'm officially free from babysitting for the next three days. That's right. No peek-a-boo, no "edu-tainment" puppet shows on public TV, no diaper duty… heh heh 'diaper duty'. Almost didn't catch that."_

"_No Ron, I'm talking about…" she started, but then thought about what he'd said. "Wait, how is it you're not babysitting? Your parents always make you sit for Hana on the weekends. It's like they look for any excuse to sneak out."_

"_Come on, KP. It's not that bad."_

"_Two months ago, they said they had to go to couples' therapy in Aspen."_

"_Relationships don't always come easy, Kim," said Ron, defensively. "It takes real courage to ask for help when you need it."_

"_They packed their __**skis**__, Ron." _

"_Well… I hear skiing can be very therapeutic," he said, after a moment's thought. _

"_Okay…" she relented, not wanting to start a fight. "So, why don't you have to baby-sit?"_

"_They're just taking the little cutie-intrudey to her pediatrician for a checkup."_

"_For three days?" she asked, suspiciously. "What kind of doctor takes three days to give a baby a checkup?"_

"_Actually, he's supposed to be one of the best doctors in his field" said Ron before quietly adding "… in the greater Tokyo area."_

"_**Tokyo?!?"**_

"_Dr. Takemori's been Hana's doctor since she was put up for adoption," he explained. "Don't worry. My folks are just going to get Hana's files so they can give them to her new doctor here in the States. And it gives the Doc a chance to say goodbye. Can't blame him for getting attatched, she's just so darned lovable."_

"_Uh huh. So, what you're telling me is you're going to have the whole house to yourself while your parents are out of the country?" she asked, hiding her eagerness, barely._

"_That's about the short and skinny of it, KP," he said simply. "Probably won't be spending a whole lot of time at Casa de Stoppable this weekend, if I can help it. Gets a little lonely in that big house without the fam, if you know what I mean."_

_Kim just stared at him. "Never be normal" was something she'd learned to accept a long time before she ever considered him as boyfriend material, but this was pushing it. _

"_Mom left me enough cash for Bueno Nacho, so that takes care of breakfast, lunch, dinner, et cetera. GWA Super Smack-a-Palooza Ex-Ex-Vee-Eye-Eye comes on Sunday afternoon. Pain King comes out of retirement for the __**fifth**__ time, definite must-see. And then I got Felix who's been talking my ear off about this new HD plasma his mom got him, which translates to four to six hours of intensive zombie combat. And, of course, I have to put in some quality time with my badical GF. Hey, you said there was something special about this weekend, didn't you?"_

"_It's no big, really," she said, suddenly feeling the need to look down at her feet. "It's just… well, Friday night. You know? 'Ron' Night…"_

"_Not sure why, but I always liked the name you picked for it," said Ron, a lopsided grin splitting his face. _

"_Right, good name," she said, letting out a short, jittery laugh. "I named it after you. Which… you probably figured out already, because what other Ron would I have… I'll just stop talking, now."_

_Ron watched as Kim absent-mindedly played with her flowing red hair, still staring down at the sidewalk as they continued on the way to school. Something about this sitch seemed anything but kosher. It was almost like she was babbling. But, that couldn't be right. Kim Possible does __**not**__ get nervous and babbly talking to her sidekick. That was about as likely as Monkey Fist giving Planet of the Apes four thumbs down. _

OOOOO**whoosh**OOOOO

"I've made some observations regarding the _Kim_," Sofia said, calmly. "It's very important that we discuss them."

"By all means, go right ahead" answered Haupt, gesturing towards her.

"I was hoping we could speak privately, Sir," said Sofia, softly. "I don't want to worry the crew, in case I'm wrong."

"Privately?" Capt. Haupt repeated. "I think we can manage that, Counselor. Your quarters or _mine_?"

The Captain punctuated his question with a low noise from the back of his throat that was trying its best to be a "purr" which, to the counselor, came out sounding a lot more like a garbage disposal. In fact, the image of shoving the captain down a kitchen sink, where whirling blades waited to grind him into paste, was probably the only thing keeping her from throttling him.

"On second thought, _Sir_, there's no reason why we can't talk up here," she said through gritted teeth.

"But the crew…" Haupt began, before involuntarily shrinking back from the look she was giving him.

"I'm sure it's nothing they can't handle. So, unless you have any preferences, _Captain_…" she said in a voice that made it clear to him that he didn't. "Good. Now, I'm concerned about the _Kim_. For the past few weeks, I've watched her behavior becoming increasingly erratic. I'm sure you've noticed it, too."

"Well, I uh… I mean of course I've noticed," said the captain, nervously tugging at the collar of his uniform. "I don't think there's a man on board who hasn't… I mean how could you not, the way the ship's core temperature spikes every time she sets off our proximity alerts, the way she moves when she knows we've got her in our sights…"

"Don't forget the way she crinkles her nose a little when she smiles at us, Sir," offered Lt. Commander Luloni, turning to join the conversation. "You gotta admit that's pretty hot."

"Appreciate the support, Mr. Luloni, but you're still supposed to be driving," he loudly reminded the helmsman before he quietly addressed Sofia again. "Counselor, are you sure we shouldn't be talking about this in private?"

"'_Erratic_' behavior, Captain," she answered, emphatically. "I _said_ that I thought the _Kim_ was behaving '_er-__**ra**__-tically_.'"

"Of course you did… um, that's exactly what I was talking about," said Haupt, trying to regain lost ground. "That's part of what's got you so worried, isn't it? All these signals she's been transmitting, historically not her standard operating procedure."

Sofia opened her mouth to correct him, but stopped short, eyes open in genuine surprise. Taking a deep breath, she relaxed and straightened up. She nodded before she continued.

"Actually, Captain, that's correct. The degree of change I'm seeing in her, especially after over such a small amount of time, I'm afraid it has me worried, Sir."

OOOOO**whoosh**OOOOO

"_Kim…" said Ron, breaking the silence. "Is everything okay?"_

"_Of course it is!" she answered, quickly. "Better than okay, everything's totally spankin'!" _

_She was flashing him a bright smile, but there was something different about it from the other smile's this morning. It was so wide it looked like she'd be hurting herself if she didn't stop, and there was something funny about the look in her eyes, and it wasn't Rufus-doing-his-Vernon-Troyer-impression funny, either. Somehow, to him, it looked like __**the**__ Kim Possible wanted to crawl under a rock and die of embarrassment. Something about it looked kind of familiar in a way but, before he could remember what it was, she spoke again. The smile was gone, replaced with a slightly worried expression. This time, she sounded a bit less perky and a whole lot less forced._

"_I was just thinking…" said Kim, soft enough that Ron had to strain to hear. "This is going to be our first Ron Night as… well… as _adults_."_

"_Hey, you're right!" he said grinning again, hoping to lighten his girlfriend's mood. "I guess its official, no more ordering off the Kid's Menu. Heh… Good times. I am really gonna miss those crayons."_

_The blond teen sniffed and wiped an imaginary tear from his eye as he gazed wistfully into space. He waited. No laughter. Refusing to give up, he quickly shifted to another tactic._

"_But, you know what they say: the past is past and the future is now. So, why don't I think up someplace for us to go and celebrate tonight? There's that swanky restaurant in Upperton… or that new dance club that just opened in-"_

"_No!" shouted the redhead, shocking the boy into silence. "I mean, those are really great ideas, but I was sort of hoping…"_

_She paused, leaving Ron more than a little shaken by her outburst. She hadn't sounded angry with him, more like she was freaked out about something. And at this point, her long-time best friend wasn't that far from freaking, himself. He couldn't, for the life of him, figure out what she was going on about. _

"_Yeah, KP?" he asked, timidly. _

"_I was hoping you'd let me plan something for us tonight," she blurted out, quickly. _

_Her eyes were shut tight like a little kid at the doctor's office waiting to get a shot. After the initial shock of the way she'd said it wore off, Ron had to force himself not to start laughing out loud. That was what had her so tweaked? With a sigh of relief he turned to his beautiful partner in crime-busting and smiled._

"_That sounds like a great idea, KP!" he said, immediately calling her eyes back to his. _

"_Really?" she asked, a real smile spreading across her lips for the first time in minutes._

"_Hey, it makes perfect sense. I mean you've already had a couple months to get used to the whole eighteen thing, and now I get to reap all the benefits. Just remember, I'm still a newbie. Go easy on me."_

"_Don't worry," she said, her natural Kim-ness already back in full force. "Leave everything to me. Tonight is going to be perfect, I promise."_

"_Considering I got me the perfect date, I'd say we're already halfway there," said Ron, more than happy that their little awkweird moment was behind them. _

_He kept walking, thoroughly pleased with himself for diffusing a potentially deadly situation with his mad relationshippin' skillz, when he felt something brushing against his knuckles. Looking down, he saw Kim's outstretched hand waiting for his. As the familiar buildings of their high school came into view, the young man reached out and entwined their fingers together, taking in the softness of her skin and the warmth of her touch. Oh, yeah… supreme mad skillz. _

OOOOO**whoosh**OOOOO

"Making our final approach into Middleton High space, Captain" said Lt. Propriov, suddenly breaking the silence of the command deck.

"Very good, Mr. Propriov," Haupt answered, shaking off the exchange he'd just witnessed between his ship and the _Kim_. "Counselor Sofia, thank you for bringing this to my attention, I'd like to be informed on any new developments. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to return to my duties."

For a moment, the female officer just stood there in quiet disbelief. This did not last long.

"**What!?!** Were you not here just now?" she asked, all sense of decorum lost. "_That_ was a new development! That was a _huge_ new development! This is exactly the kind of behavior I was talking about. And now it's suddenly back to business as usual, is that what you're telling me?"

"What, I'm telling you, _Counselor_," he said slowly, putting special emphasis on her rank. "Is that I have a ship to run, the _H.S.S. Ron Stoppable_."

"So you're just going to let the _Kim_-"

"I don't need **you** to remind me how important the _Kim_ is, how much her well-being means to this ship's ability to even _function_," he said, clearly losing some of his composure. "But, to answer your question, I was here, and what I saw was an impending conflict that was recognized, addressed, and ultimately avoided. Now, I don't pretend to know what's going on inside the Kim right now, and I can respect your unique position to give us some insight to that, but as captain, I'm forced to act in what I believe to be in the best interest of this ship and every _man_ aboard.

"I will not act on **any** information until I'm sure that what I do won't leave this ship worse off than it was to begin with. You will keep me informed on any changes you see in the Kim's behavior, and I'll do something about it when I see that something needs to be done, and not one second before. Do I make myself clear, Counselor Sofia?"

"Perfectly, _Sir_," she said, coldly. "I'd like to continue my observations here on the command deck, if you'll allow it."

"Permission granted," he answered, his voice hard. "Under the condition that you'll refrain from distracting the officers from their work."

"Of course, Captain," said Sofia. "In that case, we'll have to continue this discussion another time. I'd be disobeying a direct order if I keep 'distracting' you any longer."

"Um… Captain?" said Lt. Indlebe, hesitantly.

"What is it, Mr. Indlebe?" Capt. Haupt barked back.

"W-were being hailed, Sir," the Communications Officer stammered. "It's the _Monique_."

"Oh," the captain answered, sheepishly. "Open a channel, please."

OOOOO**whoosh**OOOOO

_Ron returned his second best female friend's greeting with one of his own. Monique's locker was relatively close to the school's main entrance, so it was pretty normal for her to catch them just after walking through the doors. _

"_Boy, where've you been hiding yourself?" the dark-haired girl asked, pulling him into a quick friendly hug. "We were starting to miss you around here. And Kim here was about ready to lose her mind without her DRSF."_

"_DRS… Translation, por favor?" asked Ron, wondering yet again where the English-to-Monique Speak Dictionary was when he needed it. _

"_She means my… daily Ronshine fix." answered Kim, blushing slightly. _

"_That, I understood loud and clear," he said, sporting his trademark goofy grin. "And you know I'd never withhold the Ronshine on purpose, but high fever and projectile vomiting wait for no man." _

"_Okay, __**major**__ TMI," said Monique. "Girl, I know couples are supposed to share everything, but don't you think you could at least keep __**microbes**__ to yourself?"_

"_Hey, who says I caught anything from Kim?" the boy asked, his guilty eyes shifting back and forth. "I didn't say that. Who said that? What have you heard?"_

"_Uh-huh, way to play it close to the vest, blondie," she said with a smirk. "Now go on, you two, get out of here. And, Kim, I expect some girl talk about that little smile you were wearing on your way in here. We're talking full disclosure dishing, got it?"_

"_Actually, it's not that big a deal, she-eee-yaaahh!" Ron started to answer before a tug from a very insistent redhead sent him walking towards the hall with their lockers._

"_Sure thing, Monique," Kim called out over her shoulder. "Later!" _

_Once she felt they'd gone far enough, she let the pace slow down to something manageable, even pausing here and there to say a quick hello. Ron even found himself exchanging pleasantries, and not exclusively with the weakest links on the Food Chain, either. Apparently, walking hand-in-hand with the school's head cheerleader and resident superhero did a lot to boost a guy's rep. Unconsciously, he gave her hand a gentle squeeze. To his surprise, she responded by letting go. Immediately, she slid her arm around his waist and pulled him in close. They continued like that, with Ron feeling like the luckiest guy in America, until he felt her other arm work its way along his stomach until her hands touched. Leaning her head on his shoulder, she laced her fingers together and let out a contented sigh._

OOOOO**whoosh**OOOOO

"Steady, Mr. Luloni, steady…" the captain urged, feeling the ship start to lurch.

"Captain," said the helmsman, "I think we can all agree I'm not really all that great at this…"

"I'll second that," added Propriov, quickly.

"Yeah, thanks…" Luloni continued. "What I mean to say is that, I'm not that good at keeping this thing out of the dirt, to begin with. That's with no outside interference. If we don't get loose, it's not 'if' we're going to crash, it's 'when.'"

"We'll see what we can do, Mr. Luloni," offered Capt. Haupt. "And, If it's any consolation, you're the best pilot… that we could get. Mr. Indlebe, open commucications."

OOOOO**whoosh**OOOOO

"_Um, KP?"_

"_Hmm?" _

"_I think I see where this is going and, not that I'm complaining at all, but the only way to get any closer is to pick a pocket and climb in. And I have to warn you, Rufus gets kinda territorial."_

_Suddenly, her head shot up and he could feel the loving pressure of her arms slowly increasing._

"_What wrong?" she asked him. "You don't want to be close to me?"_

"_No, I mean yes! Yes, I really do," he choked out, trying to ignore the pain in his ribs. "It's just that I'm the kind of guy who trips over his own feet, you know? Throw somebody else's feet into the mix and things turn ugly fast."_

"_Oh, right," she said, quickly releasing him. "Sorry."_

"_Hey, wait," he said, offering his arm. "I never said to let go all the way. After all, how many guys can say they get to walk around attached to a beaut-alicious babe, am I right? Now, let's keep moving. I don't want to be late for first period again. Barkin promised to personally tear me a-"_

"_First period… I completely forgot!" Kim gasped. "I'm supposed to be in a yearbook committee meeting right now. I'll see you between classes. Bye."_

_She released his arm and, before he could say a word, grabbed either side of the blonde's face and pulled him in for a brief but fiery kiss. She turned and broke into a brisk run, leaving a tiny smudge of lipstick and a dreamy grin on her boyfriend's lips._

OOOOO**whoosh**OOOOO

The crew rushed to their stations, dodging showers of sparks from their consoles. The overhead lights flickered and died as the crimson emergency lights took their place. The officers shouted and cursed, trying to get their respective systems back online."

"Damn those ambush kisses," growled the captain, as he surveyed the damage. "Mr. Frege, report!"

"Systems' status is unknown, Captain," the Science Officer explained, calmly.

"Unknown? What do you mean 'unknown'? What do the instruments say?"

"At the moment," answered Frege, "it seems to be repeating 'KP+RS4EVA' in a perpetual loop. Would you like to see it yourself, Captain?"

"Captain… should we still be moving?," Lt. Commander Luloni's voice called out in the darkness. "'Cause I'm pretty sure we're still moving."

"Mr. Indlebe, order full stop!" the Captain shouted behind him. "Hurry, before we-"

Without warning, many of the crew found themselves being hurled to the floor as the ship slammed violently into something. Still reeling from the collision, they were all shocked to see their systems gradually coming back online. Amazingly, the shock was enough to snap the _Ron_ out of his hormone-induced stupor.

"Mr. Propriov," said Haupt, struggling to climb back into his chair. "Where in God's name are we?"

As the lieutenant scanned his charts, now suddenly free of naked mole rats dressed like Cupid, he felt his chest tighten and his blood freeze.

"We're in… Delta Sector, Captain," he managed to squeak.

"No…" breathed the captain, eyes bulging.

OOOOO**whoosh**OOOOO

_Ron frantically looked around, hardly believing where he was. How could he have been so out of it?_

"_No," he murmured. "No, no. Not here. Not again. Not…"_

"_Stoppable!" said a cruel voice behind him. "Long time no see." _

"…D Hall_." _

OOOOO**whoosh**OOOOO

To Be Continued in…

"The Mark of Gridiron"

Authors Note: Posted this one in celebration of the mailbot finally coming back online. This is, by far, the longest chapter I've written. That kind of makes me sad, actually. Any questions, comments, or complaints (Out of Character seems a likely candidate for this one), please leave a review. It's weird how this thing seems to be getting longer as I end up cutting what I thought was a full chapter into halves. Well, I'll finish. Meanwhile, I hope you're picking up what I'm laying down. Oh, and that weird walking side hug thing Kim did to Ron actually happened to me once. Very difficult to walk in that scenario.

All blessings to you from the gleaming glow of brass knuckles,

-Brother Bludgeon

_Kim Possible_ created by Mark McCorkle and Robert Schooley.  
_Star Trek_ created by Gene Roddenberry


	4. The Mark of Gridiron

**BOLDLY GO**

* * *

"The Mark of Gridiron"

* * *

OOOOO**whoosh**OOOOO

His face hovering centimeters away from the holo-projected image on the screen before him, the young navigator's hands moved frantically over the console. The blips flashed, each bright spot on the dark field now flanked with data from the ship's sensors. Propriov nearly choked on his own breath as recognition hit him.

"Captain," he managed, hurriedly. "I've got four _Bully_-class fighters. They're converging on our location!"

The captain's eyes were locked on the primary view screen, so he barely acknowledged the lieutenant's frantic warning. Haupt didn't need the ship's computers to know these ships for what they were, what they were capable of. He'd made a promise to himself, as well as to his crew, that they would never find themselves in this position again. Cursing softly, he steeled himself for what was to come. They had wandered into enemy space, facing a hostile force that represented the kind of cruelty and oppression that went against everything the _Ron_ had come to stand for, and that left him with the only one option.

"Mr. Indlebe" he said, firmly. "Open a channel with them, and alert all decks. We are now at DEFCON 3. Mr. Propriov, I want constant updates on our position until the threat has been neutralized. Mr. Luloni…?"

"I'm ready, Sir," the helmsman said, barely any fear showing through his determination.

"Good man. Mr. Frege, is everything prepared?"

"All systems primed, Captain," he answered, well aware of the danger but unwavering in his stoic exterior.

"All decks awaiting your orders, Sir," called out the Communications Officer from behind him. "Sending hailing frequency… now."

"Alright, men. On my mark…" said Capt. Haupt, his pulse racing at the thought of immanent battle.

""**Prepare to run like Hell, Wimp Factor 5!"**

OOOOO**whoosh**OOOOO

_Smiling a little too wide, Ron started inching backwards. Slowly, at first. It had to be slow, or else they might catch on to what he was planning. He'd hoped that nothing short of an act of God would be enough to send him back to this lawless jungle on the fringes of academia. Not to say that a smoking hot kiss from his best friend, right in front of anybody that'd happened to be in the halls with them, didn't leave him wondering what he'd done to convince the Big Guy upstairs (or Gal, he didn't want to come off as sexist) that he deserved somebody like her. Of course, that just meant that he had all that much more reason to live, and that meant escape. He had to play it cool. _

"_Hey, Conrad," he said with a slight break in his voice, addressing the one who'd spoken to him. "What's it been? Four months? Five? Heh, you know how it is. Get swamped with homework, find a nice girl, help her save the world a couple of dozen times… Next thing you know, you've got no time left to just stop and kick back with the fellas."_

_The bully nodded, his smile hovering somewhere between playful and outright sadistic. He stared down at Ron, taking full advantage of the eight or so inches he had on him, not including his wild shock of brown hair shaved close on the sides and in back. _

"_Oh, sure" he said, leisurely bringing up his massive paw of a hand and cracking each knuckle with a pop that echoed through the hall. "I know how it is, Dude. But I think you might have done some real damage, staying gone so long. The guys are really broken up about it. Right, Vinnie?"_

_Conrad gestured to his left at the African-American teen leaning against a bank of lockers with his arms folded across his chest. He shook his head slowly, the dreadlocks he kept standing straight up with a headband swaying back and forth. _

"_All this time, and not even a 'Hey, whassup, guys'?" he asked, frowning with disappointment. "Cold, man. Real cold." _

"_Yeah, __**real**__ cold," said a voice to Ron's left._

_His head shot around, not seeing anyone. There was a small cough, and Ron looked down to see a boy that had to be at least two feet shorter than him. _

"_Junior?" asked Conrad, regaining Ron's attention._

"_I'd be lying if I said it didn't hurt," drawled a blonde boy wearing a backwards ball cap. "We were all so tight, and then, boom, nothing."_

"_Yeah, __**nothing**__," echoed the shorter boy, again._

"_And how about you, Li'l Steve?" the lead bully asked. _

"_Yeah, what __**about**__ me? Wait, huh?" he answered before looking up at the larger boy with confusion._

"_Man, Conrad, how many times we got to go over this?" said Vinnie, clearly frustrated. "We're the bullies, Li'l Steve is the bully 'accessory'. We talk, Li'l Steve repeats back the last part of whatever we just said. That's how it works. That's how it's always worked."_

"_Sorry guys," said the larger teen, sheepishly. "I forgot." _

"_Which is exactly why we don't let you two work alone anymore," said Junior. _

"_Dude, I said I was sorry!" shouted Conrad, shoving the wavy-haired blonde slightly._

"_Dude!" he replied with a shove of his own._

"_**Dude**__!"_

"_**Dude**__!"_

"_I can see you guys have some serious group dynamic issues to work out," said Ron, taking another cautious step backwards. "And would you look at the time? Don't want to keep Mr. B waiting so… I'lljustbegoingnowbye-__**Oof**__!"_

_After the rapid-fire goodbye, Ron had turned to run for it. He'd barely gone a few inches before slamming face first into something that stopped him cold. Something big and… breathing?_

OOOOO**whoosh**OOOOO

The whole ship shook with the force of the impact. Anything not strapped or bolted down tumbled to the floor. Readouts flickered but, thankfully, never went out, as the crew quickly tried to recover. On the command deck, the navigator furiously double-checked his charts. He was sure he knew Delta Sector well enough to plot an escape route, and this obstruction just plain wasn't supposed to be there. All at once, it dawned on him.

"Um… did I say 'four' fighters?" he said, visibly shaken. "I meant four fighters… and a destroyer."

OOOOO**whoosh**OOOOO

"_Oh, hey, Big Mike," said a wide-eyed Ron Stoppable. _

"_Stoppable," rasped Mike. _

"_Trying to run out on us, Stoppable?" asked Conrad, coming up dangerously close behind him. "If I didn't know better, I'd be wondering if maybe you didn't like us anymore. Right guys?"_

"_We already did this part," sighed Vinnie. _

"_Yeah, dude. And you totally killed it," accused Junior. "Just tell him to give us all his money so we can get out of here. Chess club meets at lunch and, if we don't take the time to plan this right, Kevin Gooberman is just gonna walk in there __**without**__ egg salad down his pants. Is that what you want?"_

"_Grrr, all right," growled Conrad. "Fun's over, Stoppable, so hand it over and get lost."_

_The bully's eyes began to narrow when he saw that Ron hadn't moved. And why should he move? He didn't have to look in his wallet to know what was in it. The contents hadn't changed since Monday. One Smarty Mart receipt for a DVD box set of the Fearless Ferret: Ferreteer's Edition, with forty-seven hours of additional footage including seven documentaries and full audio commentaries by Timothy North, series creator Bill Dozure, and Bart Wurd who was the show's weasel wrangler and therefore personal confidante of Wonder Weasel, may he smile down on us from rodent heaven. It'd practically screamed 'Happy Birthday to me' and, with his employee discount, he'd had just enough to get it. Now, Ron found himself wondering if it had really been worth it. The answer he came up with: yes, but not by much. _

"_Sorry, guys," he said, nervously. "I'm a little tapped out at the moment but I…"_

_Suddenly, it hit him. _

"_But I don't think it's such a good idea to loan you guys any more money, to tell you the truth. I mean, Conrad, I let you borrow that fifty cents in Kindergarten, and I didn't get it back 'til last year. Besides, I've got some new responsibilities these days. Have to keep my special lady entertained, and sometimes that takes a little claude. Sorry guys, but I really think I have to do this. It's for your own good. I mean, if you don't __**earn**__ the money, how are you supposed to appreciate it?"_

_With a grunt, Conrad gripped Ron tightly by the front of his shirt and slammed him up against the lockers. He didn't like the smug look he saw on the face of his longtime victim. Leaning in, their faces were nearly touching. _

"_Wrong answer," he snarled._

"_Yeah, __**wrong**__ answer," parroted Steve._

"_Whoa, buddy," Ron said, managing to keep his voice casual. "Personal space? Kind of in it. Might want to back off. You wouldn't want me to have to give you guys some more __**sensitivity training**__, would you?"_

_His cocky grin faded a few seconds after the laughing started. Instead of backing away, like he'd planned for them to, they were closing in. Vinnie had a hand up against the locker to Ron's right, while Junior mirrored his friend's stance at his left, effectively boxing him in with their arms. Big Mike loomed behind them, casting a shadow over the rapidly panicking sidekick._

"_Oh, that?" Conrad asked, smirking. "We know all about that, don't we?"_

"_Some crazy supervillain stuff went down and you wound up with cheerleader's brain…" answered Vinnie. _

"_And then she took your body and went all kung fu psycho in D-Hall," Junior continued. _

"_But then you two got switched back, so now it's just you and us. No little girlfriend here to protect you," finished Conrad._

"_How do you know about…? Aw Man! Why does Kim always have to tell Monique about __**everything**__ we do?" whined Ron, completely forgetting that he'd actually been the one to bring up his brief encounter with flippy hair and breezy skirts. "And, you know, now that Kim actually __**is**__ my girlfriend, you calling her that doesn't really bother me."_

"_Dude, you let a girl fight your battles for you, why doesn't __**that**__ bother you?" _

"_Hey, it's been this way since we were __**four**__!" Ron shouted, defensively. "How was I supposed to know any better?"_

"_Man's got a point," said Vinnie. "Start it that young, it's bound to mess you up." _

"_Oh, you have no idea. You should've seen me the first time we saw 'Sleeping Beauty.' I swear, I started shouting at the TV. 'Hey, why isn't the princess rescuing Prince Phillip?' Mr. Dr. P started laughing and then Kim and Mrs. Dr. P started yelling at him and then I saw that dragon and had to run and hide behind the couch to keep from wetting mys--"_

"_It just ain't natural, okay?" Conrad shouted, cutting him off. "You don't ever let a girl fight for you." _

"_I don't know, dude" said Junior. "She's really good at it. I think I'd let her. Cheerleader's got herself some moves. And some unbelievably smooth skin. Hey, Stoppable, you know what kind of moisturizer she uses?"_

"_That's the thing. I ask her, but then she feeds me this line about how 'Cheerleaders don't get zits' but when I open her medicine cabinet it's like the whole Skin Care aisle at Smarty Mart."_

"_Yeah, that figures," said Junior, gloomily. "So, do you remember any of the brands?"_

"_Can you ladies __**please**__ stop swapping beauty tips for five minutes?" said Vinnie, very irritated. "Man, shaking down Stoppable for lunch money is __**not**__ supposed to be taking this long. Can we __**focus**__?"_

"_Listen, I'm not trying to be difficult here," the teen sidekick tried to explain. "I already told you, I'm tapped out! Strapped, busted, cleaned out, dead broke! Are you guys even listening?"_

"_I heard the word 'dead' pretty good," said Conrad. "I don't buy it, Stoppable. You're a working man, now. Paychecks and whatnot. I say you're holding out on us."_

"_Dude, I work at __**Smarty Mart**__!" he practically shouted in the larger boy's face. "You know, 'where smart shoppers shop smart' and an orange vest without a matching tie gets you minimum wage. After taxes, which totally tank by the way, I walk away with barely enough to spare me and Rufus the horrors of nacho cheese withdrawal."_

"_Hnk… cheese… zzzz," a muffled squeak rose from the bulge in the boy's pocket. _

"_Don't lie to me, Stoppable…" an angry Conrad warned. _

OOOOO**whoosh**OOOOO

"It's no good, Captain," informed Indlebe. "We bluffed and they didn't fall for it. I can keep the channel engaged, but we all know there's no way they're backing off now. Not without getting what they came for."

The captain stewed there in silence. It had been a risky gambit from the beginning, and it had failed. Worse than that, they'd threatened a quintet of _Bully_-class ships in their own territory. An insult like that wouldn't be allowed to stand, not from any ship. No, that wasn't true. One ship had managed to refuse them, to beat them at their own game. He cast an involuntary glance at the ship's only female officer, standing off to the side with a worried expression to match everyone else's. That ship that had overcome the scourge of Delta Sector was none other than the _Ron_. Their ship… _his_ ship. But Capt. Haupt had not been there to see it. And the counselor was his eternal reminder of that. Her very presence on his ship forced him to recall, on a daily basis, the day that another captain, sitting in _his_ chair, had done things he had only ever dreamed of doing. At the moment, though, he was the only captain they had, and he didn't have time for bad memories.

"Then we give them what they came for," he said, finally. "We exhausted the payload in the primary fiscal cache… I'd say this qualifies as a rainy day. Deploy auxiliary fiscal cache."

"Captain, the auxiliary fiscal cache is currently empty," Frege reminded him, plainly "as it has been for the past month, since the Middleton Midways Carnival."

A smile flashed across Haupt's face. He had to allow himself a moment to remember that day. Twenty dollars and forty minutes firing on oversized targets using undersized rings, but it had all been worth it to watch the _Kim_ receive the enormous plush facsimile of some ungodly cross between feline and reindeer. She called it a "Kittibou," or something equally girly. Then she gave it a big hug and spent the next forty-_five_ minutes exchanging salivary runoff with the _Ron_. Good day.

"Right, well then we're just going to have to go to the _emergency_ auxiliary fiscal cache" he said, confidently. "Alert the left foot. Tell them to lower their shields over the area just above the heel so we can… what?"

"Emergency auxiliary fiscal cache is also currently empty, Captain," the Science Officer stated, after clearing his throat several times to gain Haupt's attention. "Everlot microtransactions. You insisted on buying that horse armor."

"It was **half price**!" shouted the captain, in his own defense. "Don't we have some… auxiliary emergency auxiliary fiscal cache?"

"Actually, Captain, we do" answered Frege.

"Let me guess," said Haupt, cynically. "That one's empty, too."

"No, Captain. I believe it has maintained a fair to moderate payload available."

"So… out with it, man! Where is it?"

"Its location has not changed, Captain. It is in the _Kim_'s purse."

For a moment, Haupt just stared at him. Slowly, his head began to cock to one side as one eyebrow rose into a high arch. Several times, his mouth opened as if to speak, but he sat there in silence, staring. Finally…

"Mr. Frege. Did you just… make a joke?"

Now every eye in the room was locked on the Science Officer. The emergency was forgotten, danger set aside. No one moved.

"No, Captain," he droned. "You requested an auxiliary emergency auxiliary fiscal cache and I provided the closest equivalent given the criteria. Of course, given our present situation, there might be a degree of absurdity in mentioning it. That would account for your misinterpretation."

"You might as well have been joking, Lt. Commander," Haupt grouched. "That information is about as worthless as--"

"Excuse me," interrupted a voice off to the side. "But I think we should listen to Frege. If we needed the money for anything else, wouldn't we just ask the _Kim_?"

"Counselor Sofia," the captain began, his aggravation slowly building. "While I'll agree that we've managed to successfully draw on the _Kim_'s resources in the past, I must _respectfully_ point out that the _Kim_ is nowhere in the area, unless you happen to know something I don't."

"_Well, duh_," she muttered softly before speaking up. "Sir, I believe the wisest course of action would be to send out a distress signal. We need the _Kim_."

"That, Counselor, is the one thing that I refuse to do," said Haupt, raising a hand before she could interrupt. "This is _our_ mission, it always has been. If you remember, it wasn't until the incident that stranded you here in the first place that the Kim knew anything about what goes on in Delta Sector. And that, she learned first hand. That ship fought this battle for us once in my absence. I won't see it happen under my command."

With that, the captain turned to face the view screen again. The female officer stood, eyes boring into the back of the man's head. She seemed fit to explode, but something kept her from speaking. By the look of her, that something was wearing out, fast. A loud cough cut through the silent tension of the room, followed by another, even louder. The captain turned to face the source, finding Lt. Indlebe staring him dead in the face. He coughed again, this time, gesturing towards the counselor with his eyes. Getting no response, he gestured with his whole head and let out another barrage of coughs that sounded suspiciously like "_Tell her, Sir_." With a sigh, Capt. Haupt turned back to the exterior display.

"Actually…" he said, softly. "As much this is about it being _our_ fight, it also has something to to with the fact that yearbook staff meetings are held in Alpha Sector. The _Ron_ has some impressive lung power, but not even we can transmit a distress signal that could carry for that distance. It was a good idea… really. The right idea. Just the wrong time."

It was the last thing she had expected to hear from him. So much of the anger building inside her just evaporated at the apologetic tone of his words. And yet, there was something about the way he said it… it didn't feel right. No spirit, none of the cocky swagger that annoyed her so intensely. This was _so_ the wrong time for him to lose it.

"No…" said Sofia, almost to herself, "not the wrong time."

Suddenly, she felt all eyes on her.

"Not, the wrong _time_, Captain." Her voice grew bolder, excited even. "The wrong _ship_!"

Career officers, seasoned professionals, found themselves at a complete loss. Personnel with more than half a decade of shipboard experience scratched their heads and exchanged confused grunts. Haupt's face, on the other hand, was the only one that brightened along with Sofia's. He didn't need another word of explanation. Flashing her a grateful smile, he turned and frantically worked the interface on his chair.

"Haupt to Hatfield," he said. "Repeat: Haupt to Hatfield. Damn it, Spines, answer!"

"Hatfield here," said a voice through the COM system. "What's this all about, Rick? I've got a big enough mess over here, thank you very much. I don't need you running us into walls every five minutes."

"Spines, I need everything we have on Middleton Mad Dog cheers, now!"

"Damn it, Rick" replied the gruff voice. "I'm a doctor, not some limp-wristed Broadway **choreographer**."

"We don't need the dances, just the cheers," the captain corrected him, hurriedly. "Just get it done and upload it to my station. Haupt out."

The captain released the COM button before Hatfield could answer back and waited. He didn't have to wait long. His old friend wasn't without his… personality quirks, but he was a pro. Data flashed across the miniature interface, letting him scroll through hundreds of the collected routines. The text of the readout paused, and the counselor thought she saw one side of the captain's mouth curl up ever so slightly.

OOOOO**whoosh**OOOOO

"_You got anything you want to tell me, Stoppable?" asked Conrad, bringing his face in close again. _

"_MAD DOGS SOUND OFF!" shouted Ron at the top of his lungs. _

"_Ah-RUFF, Ah-ah-ah-RUFF!"_

_The bully pulled back, shaking his head to recover from the assault on his ears. The others shared a look that simply, yet eloquently, stated: "Duh… huh?" For a few seconds, nothing happened._

"_I said'a MAD DOGS SOUND OFF! Ah-RUFF, Ah-ah-ah-__**RUFF**__!"_

_This time, he'd screamed it even louder. Vinnie and Junior each took a nervous step backwards. Steve was peeking out from behind Big Mike's left leg. Conrad felt like somebody had sat him in from of the speakers at a death metal concert. _

OOOOO**whoosh**OOOOO

"So…" the helmsman cautiously whispered to his left. "What exactly are we trying to do?"

"Simple," Propriov answered back. "It's a well known fact that you shouldn't hit a crazy person. Next we're going to step up saliva production so we can get a nice drool on, then we'll move on to accusing the CIA of rigging the last two seasons of American Starmaker."

"Oh," murmured Luloni, now deep in thought. "So, it's like a rule? You're not supposed to hit crazy people?"

"Yep," said the navigator, turning his attention back to the screen. "It also applies to the terminally stupid, which explains why I never hit _you_."

"Once again, Mr. Indlebe," ordered Capt Haupt, cutting off any comeback Luloni would have tried and failed to make. "Give it everything we got!"

OOOOO**whoosh**OOOOO

"_Dude, I think my ears are bleeding," said Conrad, still cringing from the last blast. "What is your __**damage**__, Stoppable? I swear, you do that one more time…"_

_There was a flash of fear in Ron's eyes. For years, he'd been willing to do just about anything to keep a bully from finishing a sentence like that. But now, the fear faded until all that was left was a look of grim defiance. Keeping his eyes locked with Conrad's, he opened his mouth wide, sucked in a massive breath, and…_

"_MAD DOGS SOUND OFF!"_

"_That's it, Stoppable. I--" _

"_**AH-RUFF, AH-AH-AH-RUFF**__!"_

_The larger teen froze. His hand loosened around Ron's shirt as he gulped and slowly turned around. Surrounding them in a semi-circle was the entire Middleton Mad Dogs' starting Offensive Line. One thousand two hundred fifty-one combined pounds of hyper-aggressive high school fury and not a single neck in sight. Their voices had been enough to vibrate locker doors all around them. Ron looked up at them, grinning like the cat that polished off a Red Lobster seafood buffet on his way to eat the canary. _

"_Guys, que pasa?" he said, brightly. "Hoped that would get your attention. I thought you guys could sort of give me a hand here. See, Conrad and I are having a little disagreement. __**He**__ says I should give him all my money, but __**I**__ say that as a member of the greatest football team in the great state of--"_

"_**MAD DOGS RULE!**__"_

"_Uh, yeah… Mad Dogs rule. Anyway, I thought it might look bad to just hand it over. What do you guys think? Be honest."_

_Without a word the bullies found themselves slammed against the bank of lockers behind them by a tidal wave of letterman jackets and unchecked testosterone. Li'l Steve dove between the Center's legs and broke into a dead run, squealing like a stuck pig the whole way. Junior did his best to hold back tears._

"_Dude, how could you?" he whimpered, looking up into the face of the one pinning him. _

"_Hey, what can I say?" said Ron, smugly. "Big Mike found his true calling at Offensive Tackle. The least you guys could do for him is to be supportive."_

"_Ah-ruff." _

"_Couldn't have said it better myself, Big Mike," said Ron, patting his extra-large teammate on the arm. "Well boys, thanks for stopping by on such short notice. Looks like you got everything under control. I think I'll just be going on to… uh, guys? Think you could let me pass?"_

"_Huh? What do you mean, 'let you pass'?" the Center asked, mildly surprised. "Stoppable, don't you know anything? Davis, explain it to him. I'll check around the corner, make sure nobody's coming."_

"_Explain what?" asked Ron, feeling some of his nervousness return. "What is Davis explaining that somebody around the corner wouldn't want to see?"_

"_Sorry Ron, but you ain't leaving," the Left Guard answered, solemnly. "You're one of us, now. And as one of us, we got your back. That's half of what Mad Dogs pride is all about."_

"_Why do I suddenly get the feeling I don't want to know what the other half is?"_

"_Probably 'cause the other half of Mad Dogs pride is about not being a wuss when some guy calls you out," Davis answered, knowing it wasn't what he wanted to hear. "We wouldn't let all four of those guys jump you, no way. So they won't. What Conrad did, that's something between you and him. He pushed you, now you push back or we __**all**__ look bad."_

"_Are you sure?" Ron asked almost frantically. "Because I've got a lot more experience with wuss. Heck, I could probably go pro. Not so much with the pushing. I'm strictly an amateur pusher. Why don't you guys take this one, and I'll watch real close so I can get the next one?"_

"_You do __**not**__ want to punk out on this, Stoppable," said the Center, scowling. "Not if you don't want things going back to the way they used to be. Them __**and**__ us getting our jollies making your life miserable? I didn't see anybody down the hall. Let's get it done, brother."_

"_Right," said Ron with a gulp as he was led into the circle they'd formed in the middle of the hallway. "Get it done."_

OOOOO**whoosh**OOOOO

"We've got the five biggest ships in the _Mad Dog_ fleet surrounding us," Lt. Propriov said, bleakly. "Escape is _definitely_ not an option this time."

"It never was, Mr. Propriov," said Haupt, dismally. "Not since we sent out that first distress call."

Counselor Sofia leaned against the back wall, wishing she could melt herself into it. The _Ron _was about to start a fight that no one on board believed they could win, and she couldn't blame anyone but herself. Calling the fleet for help was exactly what she'd had in mind and, if the captain hadn't caught on, she would've told him as much. She'd even allowed herself to be slightly impressed by the way he'd contacted them. Any other way would have alerted the enemy for sure, putting the ship in even more danger. If she hadn't said anything, she knew something would have happened to save them, just like it always did. Haupt would get some flash of inspiration or there would be some ridiculous coincidence. But she'd been the captain's inspiration this time. And nothing short of a miracle would get them out of this without satisfying the bloodlust of their "allies."

"It _was_ the right idea," said the captain, seemingly reading her thoughts. "It's given us the best odds we could hope for. Outnumbered, we were finished. One to one, we have a chance."

"Bully-class fighter seven feet and closing," announced the practically trembling navigator. "He's coming."

"Mr. Indlebe, alert all decks," Haupt said, urgently. "Battle stations."

The communications officer took a deep breath, then complied with the order. There was movement in every corner of the ship. The hands were tense, ready to mobilize at a moment's notice, as were the feet. The rear deck had their own preparations to make.

"Alright, lads," shouted Duff. "Clench! Release. Clench! Release. We'll nae give that hooligan the satisfaction of a soft target, will we?"

"**NO, SIR!**"

"Aye then, he captain is counting on us. If they mean to kick us, they'll be kicking** buns of steel**!"

The whole deck erupted in cheers while, on the command deck, the air was deathly still.

Anyone without some vital system to mind had their eyes glued to the main screen. They watched as the enemy ship slowly inched forward, like a predator advancing on a cornered animal. To them, it was almost like the _Conrad_ was moving in slow motion as it prepared its primary weapon. Time slowed to a crawl as the enemy ship fired, the massive fist on an impact trajectory with the _Ron's_ upper deck. The crew collectively held its breath as they braced themselves and waited. And… waited.

"Captain, the _Conrad_ is down!" said a noticeably shocked Propriov. "Repeat: the _Conrad_ is down. He's three feet behind us, sprawled out at ground level."

"He, we whu… How?" demanded the captain, once he could form words again.

"I moved."

All eyes in the room snapped to the front. Luloni squirmed in his seat, not quite fond of excess attention, but those two words had everyone in the room focused intently on him. The captain was dumbfounded for the second time in less than a minute. Frege looked on with an air of subdued fascination. Propriov was just trying his best not to pass out. It was the counselor that spoke first.

"You moved?" she asked, almost skeptically.

"Well, yeah," he said, uncomfortably. "I mean, I saw where he was aiming and I didn't want him to hit us so… I moved. I'm sorry I didn't wait for orders, Captain."

"That's… alright, Mr. Luloni," replied the captain, stunned. "You… _How_ did you dodge an attack like that?"

"Well, I sort of just saw it coming, then I made sure we weren't there to get hit," he answered, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. "See? I'm doing it right now."

"Doing it right…" Haupt began before quickly turning back to the external view, only to get another shock at what he saw.

The _Conrad_ had righted himself and then immediately made another attack run. He was deploying both of his primary weapons, one right after another in rapid succession. Or, at least, it must have seemed rapid to him. As the crew watched, they realized that it wasn't their fear that made it seem like the _Conrad_'s first attack was taking too long to hit. It really was that slow. The Lt. Commander was piloting the _Ron_ away from everything the enemy ship was throwing at them. By now, he was actually getting slightly bored with it and was trying to keep himself entertained by seeing how long he could wait before actually having to dodge.

"How is this even possible?" the captain wondered out loud.

"I believe I have an explanation, Captain," said the Science Officer, flatly. "I have been observing the _Conrad_ and my conclusion on his attributes as a fighter craft has been… curious. For sheer mass, he his twenty-seven percent smaller than any of the _Dementor_'s _Henchman_-class fighters. An average _Monkey Ninja_-class skirmisher is superior in top speed and maneuverability by four hundred seventy-three percent. His firepower, when compared to the _Killigan_, the _Montgomery Fiske_, and perhaps every villain-class ship, with the exception of the _Drakken_ or the _Lucre_, is totally ineffective against a ship of our capabilities."

"What are you getting at, Frege?"

"To put it more simply, Captain…"

OOOOO**whoosh**OOOOO

"_Dude, you're worse at this stuff than __**I**__ am, and that's saying something," said Ron, easily dodging another punch. "Maybe we should stop."_

"_Shut up and hold still… __**ungh**__!" answered the bully, between swings of his oversized fists. "There's no way a loser like you can beat me!"_

"_Yeah, but I… watch out, you're gonna trip again… but I do this kind of thing like four or five times a __**week**__. Against grown men that get paid to do it. Although, I hear they don't get much. Plus you got your on-the-job hazards like exploding lairs, out of control genetic experiments, and, well… my girlfriend. And the weird part is, I don't know if it's… you know, you might want to mix in a jab sometimes, keep me guessing… I don't know if it's the whole 'get in on the ground floor of world domination' thing or what, but they keep finding guys to fill the jumpsuits."_

_The taller boy was throwing everything he had, but no matter what he tried, he never hit anything but air. Most of the time, Ron didn't even have to move his feet or even duck. He could lean to one side or the other and the blows would miss completely. Sure, it looked clumsy. So did just about anything the freckled teen did. It was working._

"_Hey, Conrad," he said, eventually. "I can't believe I'm saying this, 'cause you're __**you**__ and I'm… you know, __**me**__, but I'm actually kind of worried you might get hurt if we keep doing this. You don't even have to say you give up. We can call it a tie. What do you say?"_

"_I say," Conrad began, panting now, but refusing to drop his guard. "Right after I kick your ass, I'm gonna celebrate by finding your little cheerleader and teaching her how a girl should act around a __**man**__. What do you say to that, Stoppable?"_

OOOOO**whoosh**OOOOO

The sound of heavy breathing through gritted teeth echoed through the command deck. You'd almost swear you could hear the sound of metal groaning as the arm of the captain's chair tried to resist being torn off by the vice grip that held it. A vein throbbed through the reddening skin of the captain's forehead, big enough that even Frege was fairly impressed. Without warning, his eyes snapped open and his head was thrown back to let out his savage cry.

"**CoooooooooooooOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOONNN**…" came his primal scream, fists clenched in fury.

Everyone went quiet, exchanging confused glances.

"…rad," he finished, awkwardly. "Ahem. Mr. Indlebe, get me both hands. We don't want to keep our _friend_ waiting for his answer, do we?"

"No, Sir," the lieutenant answered, disgust and anger as clear on his face as it was on the faces of the officers around him. "Hands left and right, patching through… now."

"Ensign Gant, Right Hand, reporting, Sir," said an eager voice over the COM system.

"Ensign Hinthan, Left Hand," said another voice. "Awaiting your orders, Captain."

"Gentlemen," said Haupt, evenly. "It's time the gloves came off…"

OOOOO**whoosh**OOOOO

_Conrad threw another haymaker, hoping what he'd said was enough to make his target forget to dodge. It was, but not in the way that the bully had wanted. Instead of moving out of the way, a scowling Ron Stoppable reached out and caught Conrad's fist out of the air and held it. Instinctively, the larger teen brought up his other hand free the one that was trapped, but Ron caught that by the wrist before it even got close. Hands that had spent years climbing up the sides of mountain lairs and hanging from loose cables started tightening around flesh and bone. Conrad stared down in disbelief before the first wave of pain hit him, sending him down to one knee. Then, almost as quickly as it had started, the pain was gone, and he saw the blonde teen take a step back._

"_You're lucky, Conrad," he said, harshly. "'Cause if __**she**__ heard you say something like that, you'd be in college before the doctors let you try solid foods again. Now, I'm going to turn around and then I'm going to walk away. You can tell people I chickened out, I'm cool with that. But, if it gets back to me that you said __**anything**__ about Kim, I swear I will open up five cans of mad Fu justice on your oversized keister, and then__I'll let __**her**__ teach you something about how a __**boy**__ should act around a lady. Sound fair?"_

_Cradling his sore wrist, the bully said nothing. He just nodded and watched his onetime punching bag walk towards the circle of his teammates, who parted for him almost reverently. Conrad sat there gaping until he saw a large hand coming towards him. Flinching for a moment, he recognized it as Big Mike's and accepted the offer to help him back to his feet. Vinnie sent him a sympathetic look, while Junior patted him gently on his shoulder. Looking back, he saw a thin, blond form get swallowed up by a mass of letterman's jackets, encouraging hoots and slaps on the back sounding through the corridors. Just beyond them, the bullies spotted one lone figure standing at the end of the hall that suddenly reminded them that they were late for their first class. They turned and sprinted the other way, not stopping until they could barely hear the shouting behind them._

"_MIDDLETON MAD DOGS, ATTENTION!" _

_The Mad Dogs froze in their tracks, just now noticing the looming presence in their path. Automatically, they all stood a little straighter, arms pinned to their sides. Steve Barkin's hands linked behind his back as he started to pace back and forth in front of them. _

"_Men…" he said, for the moment still sounding reserved. "I'm sure you're all familiar with this institution's policies in regards to forcing your fellow students into unarmed gladiatorial combat on school property. I don't believe we need to call your parents, because I can personally guarantee that this will not be happening again. After school, we're going to find a more __**positive**__ outlet for all this excess energy. You will run until __**I**__ say you've run enough, and if you're still out there after sunset, you will thank me for allowing you to run in the shade, IS THAT CLEAR?"_

"_Yes, Coach" the players said in unison, with one exception._

"_Um, Mr. B?" said Ron, tapping the ranting educator on the arm. "It's March. You know… Spring?"_

"_What's your point, Stoppable?" asked Barkin, suspiciously._

"_Spring… as in birds chirping, hay fever, and… no football," the teen continued, carefully. "The season ended, like, two months ago."_

_Blank stares._

"_Oh, do __**not**__ tell me you guys forgot. They said it was like the biggest Cinderella story to come out of Colorado since the South Park Cows won the International Dodge Ball Championship! Little high school in the middle of nowhere starts beating all the big name schools, I get scouted by some Arena Football team and think about dropping out so I can sign with them, but then, thanks to the love of the Cheer Squad captain and some sage advice from a gruff but lovable groundskeeper, who we figured out later was actually Duff Killigan trying to steal some experimental Astroturf which is a whole other story, I decide to stay in school and the Mad Dogs win the state championship… any of this sound familiar?"_

_More blank stares but, this time, with crickets. _

"_Oh, __**come on**__!" whined the blond, waving his arms in the air. "Jimmy Blamhammer already bought the movie rights, for pete's sake!" _

"_Hey, I heard about that," the Left Tackle spoke up. "Isn't that guy Quinn supposed to be playing you?"_

"_Yes, yes he is," answered Ron, deflating slightly. "But it's not about that. The season's over and we're all seniors. Well, Davis is a junior. But, for the rest of us, Barkin's not coaching us anymore. He's back to being a regular teacher."_

_All heads swing back to Barkin, hoping for some sort of confirmation. _

"_He's right," the ex-military man said, grudgingly. "My tour of duty as your coach has been terminated. I was betting, with the repeated blows to the head you all took during the season, you'd have a tough time remembering any of it. But, now you know, so I suppose I'm no longer in a position to assign laps. Well… what are you standing around for? Get to class, DOUBLE-TIME!"_

_Just as they were starting to relax again, the now former high school athletes broke into a dead run towards their first classes. It was an unwritten rule that jocks never got detention. _

"_And Davis, I'll see __**you **__bright and early next Fall!" shouted Barkin, before turning back to Ron. "Now, as for you, Stoppable, I saw that little exchange of yours." _

"_You did?" the boy gulped. "How much?"_

"_Enough to see you finally decided to stop fooling around and start fighting back. You sure took your sweet time on that one."_

"_So, I'm not in trouble?" asked Ron, hopefully. _

"_For what? If I suspend you for fighting, I have to submit a report to the school board about exactly what I saw you do. When I tell them that the worst thing you did was squeeze the arm of a boy about twice your size, who'd been trying to punch you for about eight minutes before that, they'll laugh me right out of a job. Now, don't you have a class to get to?"_

"_Uh, yeah. You teach it. Hey, what's the rest of the class doing while you're out here with me?"_

_Barkin said nothing as he turned and started walking in the direction of his classroom. Ron caught up and matched his pace, not willing to let the matter drop._

"_I mean, you're supposed to be a teacher here, right?" he asked, pointedly. "So how come whenever I turn around, you're always there. Every class I take, you suddenly start teaching it. And now… you came looking for me, didn't you? You saw I wasn't in class, so you left all your other students to come find me. Why?"_

"_Come on, Stoppable," he answered, callously. "I know you're not the sharpest bayonet in the bunch, but I thought even you would've figured it out by now. Out of all the students enrolled today, heck, out of all the students in the history of this educational facility, who would you say has the most potential to accidentally blow up, knock down, or otherwise __**demolish**__ the entire school?"_

"_Point taken."_

OOOOO**whoosh**OOOOO

To Be Continued In…

"Requiem for Mystery Meat"

* * *

Authors Note: This one absolutely refused to end. I swear, it taunted me. The worst part about it is that I'd actually intended for the whole Middleton High thing to be in one chapter. Ha. And again, I say Ha Ha. I took some liberties with this chapter. Conrad and Li'l Steve are the two bullies from the Mind Games episode, and that last bit with Barkin… well, it's not _specifically_ canon, but it would explain a lot. 

As always, I appreciate your reviews and I respond to every one of them.

I'd like to send out thanks to **Meca Vegeta** (still not sure if you liked it), **spectre666** (nice work on the biblical reference), **CajunBear73** (glad you're enjoying it), **Jillie Rose** (anybody ever tell you that you have a great laugh?), **Warbird** (weird: it's what I do), **DuffKilliganFan** (best thing to come out of the Great White North since Nathan Fillion), and **Ultimate Naco Topping** (I am not worthy).

And, to **Mr. Wizard**, I'd like to give a special thanks for all the encouragement I've gotten through our correspondence. You're the best, my brother.

All blessings to you from the Master's House of Pain,

-Brother Bludgeon

_Kim Possible_ created by Mark McCorkle and Robert Schooley.  
_Star Trek_ created by Gene Roddenberry


	5. Requiem for Mystery Meat

**BOLDLY GO**

* * *

"Requiem for Mystery Meat"

* * *

OOOOO**whoosh**OOOOO 

_Ron barely stopped himself from whimpering at the sharp sound of the bell signaling the end of class. In a panic, his pencil darted to the remaining blank spaces on his quiz, knowing any answer was better than none at all. He gathered his things and got up from the desk, paper in hand. With his best attempt at a confident smile, he set the quiz face down on the corner of the teacher's desk and turned for the door. World History was his last class before lunch and he wanted to catch a certain redhead at her locker so they could walk to the cafeteria together. Kim had told him they would see each other between classes, but that'd been the last time he'd seen her. Was she avoiding him? Was she mad about something? And if she was, why had she… Thinking back to the kiss, he suddenly had a tough time concentrating on his anxiety. Apparently he was also having a tough time concentrating on his immediate surroundings as he almost plowed right into his best male friend's wheelchair._

"_Whoa there," warned Felix, waving his hand in front of his dazed friend's face. "Distracted, are we? That quiz must've really got to you. How bad was it on a scale of 1 to 10, 10 being last level of ZM3 on the Masochist difficulty setting __**without**__ a flamethrower?"_

"_Huh, quiz?" the blond said, finally able to clear his head._

"_Now there's a scholarly response."_

"_Hey!" said Ron, indignantly. "For your information, that quiz was nothing. I am 100 percent sure about every single one of those answers."_

OOOOO**whoosh**OOOOO

"All I'm saying is that I'm not 100 percent sure about those answers," Haupt explained, delicately.

"Are you telling me how to do my job?" Hatfield asked, coldly, over the COM system. "Do _you_ want to come down here and organize this mishmash of pro-wrestling stats and old TV theme songs? Damn it, Rick! I'm a doctor, not _Martha Stewart_."

"Spines, you know I'd never suggest…" the captain began, awkwardly. "It's just… Alright, what about question three? It asked what was said by Julius Caesar after his victory in the Battle of Zela."

"What's your point?"

"My point is that I really have trouble believing that Caesar stood up in front of the Roman Senate and shouted '_Are you not entertained_?'."

"When I cross-referenced 'ancient Rome' with 'famous quotations,' it gave me exactly two hits," Spines replied, curtly. "So, unless you think we would have had a better shot with '_I am Spartacus_,' I'd say I made the right call."

"Well, what about question nine?" continued the captain, uneasily. "You said that Alexander the Great's father was '_Alexander the Reasonably Above Average_'. Even you have to admit that's a bit of a stretch."

"It's called identifying a pattern and making an educated guess," he shot back. "I think even **you** have to admit that the Archives on this ship are a joke because nobody bothers to input any relevant data. I try and put something together with the little scraps of info you throw me, and here you are jumping down my throat. I bet you have a problem with my answer to the bonus question, too, don't you?"

"Er, no…" Capt. Haupt answered, guiltily. "No, of course not, Spines. I'm sure there are at least a dozen historians who sat the Romans countered Hannibal Barca's elephants with small detachments of field mice."

OOOOO**whoosh**OOOOO

"_Well, whatever it is, you better get over it before tonight," Felix said, his tone leaving no room for argument. "You're no good to me if you can't focus. Once I hit that power button, you eat, sleep, and breathe the total eradication of all things undead, capisce?"_

"_Uh… heh, yeah… might have to put a kibosh on that capisce there, Felix," said Ron, timidly. "See, um, there's a distinct possibility that I may or may not have made other plans, you know, for tonight…" _

_There was a short screech of high grade all-terrain rubber on linoleum and Ron suddenly found himself walking alone. Turning, he noticed Felix with a hand on either wheel, in what could only be described as a death grip. Looking in the young man's eyes, the word "death" came to mind easily._

"_Care to roll that one by me again, Stoppable?" he asked, pointedly. "'Cause, to me, that sounded like you had something on the docket for tonight that was __**bigger**__ than the ultimate 50-inch flat screen, 1040i res sharper-than-reality, 5.1 surround sound, total emersion gaming experience."_

"_I know, I know," answered Ron, cheerlessly. "The whole thing is thermo-nuclear sweet, but something else came up. I had no control over it."_

"_Fair enough," his friend sighed. "Who's dying?" _

"_Me, if Kim catches me even _thinking_ about Zombie Mayhem tonight." _

OOOOO**whoosh**OOOOO

As the two ships continued their exchange, Sofia's attention was focused elsewhere. She stared at the Science Officer's face, watching for the smallest change. Any indication of what he might be thinking. True to form, Frege was totally unreadable. She couldn't detect even the slightest hint of the anger or loss she knew he should be feeling. With a sigh, she returned her attention to the _Felix_, her mind wandering back to her first weeks onboard the _Ron_ and the longest conversation she and Mr. Frege had ever shared.

OOOOO**timewarp-whoosh**OOOOO

The sound of fingertips drumming on the bare metal desk filled the relatively tiny room. Scowling a bit, Sofia folded her hands to put an end to the nervous activity. If nothing else, it certainly didn't make her seem any more professional. After the initial chaos of discovering that her shipmates had returned to the _Kim_ without her, she was beginning to find her situation much more bearable.

A large part of that had something to do with the fact that she was no longer confined to the brig under suspicion of espionage, but there were little things, too. The captain's suggestion that she might be able to do some good, while helping herself ease into her new surroundings, if she were to continue her previous role as a ship's counselor had allowed her to overcome a lot of her feelings of displacement and homesickness. He'd gone so far as to convert a storage closet in the far corner of the brain into an office space for her to use, and had even scheduled evaluative sessions for all of this officers.

She was waiting on one of those officers, now. It was a few minutes before the Science Officer was supposed to show but, at the moment, there really wasn't much to do other than to just sit and wait. She busied herself by thinking of possible ways to decorate the office so as to make it more inviting for her patients while she absentmindedly pulled at the hem of her embarrassingly small uniform. She'd quietly thanked her maker when the captain had promised to find her a more modest outfit as soon as possible. At exactly 1400 hours, the door slid open, revealing her next appointment.

"I am here for the psychological evaluation you requested, Counselor," said Frege in his natural monotone.

"Please, come in, Lt. Commander," she answered warmly, then gestured to the single chair opposite hers on his side of the desk. "Would you like to sit down?"

"That would be acceptable, Counselor," he said, then lowered himself almost mechanically to a seated position.

"Please, feel free to call me Sofia if it makes you more comfortable," said the counselor. "Do you have a preference on what I should call you?"

"I have no preference," he answered, unhesitatingly. "Being that we are the only two present, Counselor, I may logically assume that all questions or comments offered on your part have been intended for me, regardless of nomenclature."

She found herself smiling slightly at the answer. It was just so comfortingly familiar. She'd heard so many like it dealing with others of his kind back on the _Kim_ that she'd almost predicted his response word for word. If she wasn't sure the gesture would have been totally lost on him, she might have acted on her compulsion to walk around the desk and plant a kiss right on his bald, vein-covered head.

"That's very true, Mr. Frege," she said, finally. "It's something I ask whenever I'm in a session with someone for the first time. It usually helps them to feel more comfortable. It doesn't surprise me that it wouldn't make any difference to you. Your people don't usually have to deal with the same… insecurities as the rest of us. In fact, I don't think we'll even need another session after this."

"I would agree, Counselor," said Frege. "Once I have been declared fit to return to active duty, it is highly unlikely that I will require any additional evaluation."

"Then let's try not to waste time for either of us," she said, smiling. "I think I can skip a lot of the standard questions, but I still have a few about your work environment. How easy is it for you to interact with the other crewmembers?"

"Their performance is acceptable, Counselor," he said with no apparent disdain. "Their actions have resulted in the continued function of this ship, and can therefore be considered successful."

"Mmm hmm, it doesn't sound like you necessarily agree with the way the ship's being run," she said, pausing to enter some data into a small pad like device using a stylus pen. "Do you feel that you're consulted often enough, that the other officers listen to your ideas?"

"My function on this ship is primarily centered on systems analysis. Nearly all advisement on my part concerning operating procedure is unsolicited and is rarely put into practice."

"Well, I think that might change after I have a discussion with Captain Haupt," she said, encouragingly. "Especially if I get the same answer from the others."

The female officer called up the appointment schedule on her data pad, scanning for the telltale last name without a corresponding first name. Surprisingly, the only one listed was the officer seated in front of her.

"That is, if can get them in for a session," she said, slightly frustrated. "It's kind of embarrassing to admit this, as the ship's counselor and all, but I haven't been here long enough to get to meet everyone yet. I'm sure I'll run into them eventually. It's weird, though. The few times I've been to the bridge, there's only been one of your kind on duty at a time. Why is that?"

"The one you have seen in active duty has only ever been myself, Counselor," said Frege, without a trace of sadness. "All others of my kind are either dead or in a perpetual state of hibernation from which it is highly unlikely that they will recover."

Sofia stared at him with her mouth hanging open. It was totally inconceivable. Her mind was barely able to register the possibility. After a few moments of silence, she managed to string together enough syllables to ask him how a thing like this could have happened.

"It was a gradual process," he explained, no more emotion in his voice than there ever was. "Repeated blunt force trauma from constant collisions was a factor, as was the constant presence of television during periods of inactivity. However, the most effective agent of their destruction was the _Ron Stoppable_'s recent enthusiasm for interactive media, specifically Zombie Mayhem II. A few of us seemed to have some form of natural resistance, but I was the only one of my people who could still function after prolonged exposure. The majority, however, had no resistance and were completely decimated."

The horror of what was said combined with the passionless tone used to say it left Sofia in a stunned silence. She looked through quickly forming tears at the officer in the grey shirt. There was no change in his expression. Not even his shoulders had slumped after describing what was essentially genocide.

"If that is all, Counselor, I should return to my duties," he said, noticing her apparent speechlessness.

Mutely she nodded and watched him rise from the chair. There was nothing she could say. Nothing she could do but stare at the retreating form of Ron Stoppable's last living brain cell.

OOOOO**timewarp-whoosh**OOOOO

"The _Felix_ has resumed its previous heading, Sir," said the navigator, rousing the counselor from her memories.

"Maintain our position at his flank, Mr. Luloni," the captain ordered. "Mr. Propriov and Mr. Indlebe, scanning for the _Kim_ is still priority one. If she doesn't want to be found, that's all the more reason to look for her."

Sofia groaned inwardly at the distinctly male logic as she tried to shift her focus back to the _Felix_.

OOOOO**whoosh**OOOOO

"_So, what? Is this some kind of mission thing?" asked Felix, sullenly._

"_Yeah, sort of," Ron answered, rubbing the back of his neck. "Except it's sort of more of a date… thing." _

_With a groan, the handicapable teen turned away in apparent disgust as he extended a hand towards his friend, palm up. Ron looked down at the hand, clearly confused. _

"_Come on," said Felix, impatiently gesturing with his fingers. "Hand it over." _

"_Hand what over?" Ron asked, totally lost._

"_Your Man card," he said, as though it were obvious. "Give it to me. If you don't, Kim's just going to take it and keep it in a little jar by her bed. Right next to the teeny tiny little jar with your--" _

"_Oh, real funny, Renton," pouted Ron, not wanting to hear what part, or parts, of his anatomy Kim was supposed to be keeping in the other jar. _

"_I thought so, anyway," Felix responded, smugly. "So what's the deal? Last I heard, Saturday was the traditional Kim/Ron date night. What? Did you figure Bueno Nacho and a movie might work better on a Friday?"_

"_No," he said defensively. "Actually, now that I think about it, I'm pretty sure she still wants to go out on Saturday, too."_

"_Then what the heck is this supposed to be tonight?" his friend asked, cynically. "A warm up?"_

"_No, it's… well, do you remember, back before we were dating--"_

"_Yep, and the memory just gets happier every time I have to sit back and watch her turn you into her own personal meat-puppet."_

"_Will you give it a rest for a second? You remember Zombapalooza?"_

"_Ye gods," Felix shuddered. "How could I forget? 'Jump-kick! Jump-kick!' You know I love Possible like a sister, but the girl's a born button masher."_

"_Yeah, well she wouldn't have been there at all if the thing hadn't been on a Friday night," Ron explained. "Every Friday before that, after we figured out that she was Miss Extra-Curricular and I was… well…"_

"_You?"_

"_Yeah, thanks. Well, she always made sure that her Friday nights were free for the two of us to just hang. I had no idea how important it was to her until I actually made some other plans." _

"_So, Fridays were 'Ron' nights?" Felix asked incredulously. _

"_Yeah, we pretty much made it official after that. It kept going strong 'til Syntho-dork 901 showed up," said Ron, his face darkening briefly. "After that, we were dating for real, so every night was sort of 'Ron Night.' Add that to the fact that football games were mostly Friday nights and the tradition just sort of faded away."_

"_Except now it's making a comeback," Felix pointed out. "Did she tell you why?"_

"_That's the weird part," he answered. "This morning, she said it had something to do with us being 'adults' now. I think maybe she's going to try and do whatever she wanted to do on my actual birthday that I couldn't do with a 104 fever."_

"_Ron, you are the only guy I know who gets sick after swapping spit with a girl then runs back for Round 2 not even a week later."_

"_How is it that __**everybody**__ knows about that?" Ron whined. _

"_Captain of the Cheer Squad sneaks you into her room to suck face. How is it that you're not screaming it at the top of your lungs?" Felix asked before shifting gears, figuratively speaking. "I'm telling you, Ron, you can't let her tell you what to do. A guy is entitled to his freedom. I mean if all she has to do is smile and you come running, what does that mean for… Ron?"_

"_Sorry man, I just saw Kim heading for her locker!" he shouted over his shoulder as he sprinted away. "I'll catch up with you at lunch!"_

"_You'll try…" Felix growled softly._

_Ron turned a corner and spotted her. She was there, in front of her locker, talking excitedly about something with Monique. As he jogged up, he didn't bother trying to listen in. Somehow, being best friends with a girl for most of his life did nothing to teach him the mysteries of girl talk. He stopped just as the beautiful young Club Banana employees shared an ear-splitting squeal and started hopping up and down with their hands joined between them. Yet another thing Ron had trouble understanding. Didn't mean he couldn't enjoy looking at it as he waited for his hearing to return. He noticed her locker door was hanging open and that his friend and tech support engineer, Wade Load, was staring back at him with a mildly nauseas look on his face. When the girls had finished bouncing, Ron made his presence known. _

"_Afternoon, ladies."_

"_Ron? How long have you been standing there?" Kim asked, nervously._

_Deciding that "long enough to realize why guys like watching women's volleyball" was likely to get him into trouble, he explained that he'd spotted her from down the hall and had just got there. This seemed to satisfy her and she leaned in for a hug, murmuring her apologies for not seeing him between classes directly into his ear._

"_Don't worry about it," he said, relieved she wasn't upset with him. "I got a little worried you might have been kidnapped by some kind of raving lunatic trying to take over the world but I can see that you're… how sick and wrong is it that stuff like that actually happens to us."_

"_Ferociously wrongsick," she said, before sneaking a kiss to the side of his mouth. _

"_You know, I'd tell you two to get a room but…" _

"_Monique!" Kim hissed at her friend, her cheeks threatening to match her hair._

"_Well, now that we're all together," said Ron, the kiss leaving him totally oblivious to them brief exchange he'd just seen, "why don't we head over to the cafeteria? I hear they stopped buying meat from plague-ridden third world countries. Of course, I've heard the same rumor sixteen times since 9th grade, but maybe seventeenth time's the charm."_

"_As good as you make that sound, Girlfriend and I have to pass," said Monique, smirking. "We'll be over at the mall 'till the end of lunch."_

"_Wha…?" Ron gaped. "How'd you get Barkin to sign off on that?" _

"_Simple, so long as it doesn't interfere with classes, Kim is fully allowed to ditch school to go on a mission, no matter how big or small it is."_

"_Mission? You're going on a mission with Monique?" asked Ron before his eyes widened in panic. "You're going on a mission __**without **__**me**__?"_

"_Amp down, Ron," Kim said, putting a hand on his shoulder. "Monique __**is**__ the mission."_

"_Monique is the… okay, you lost me."_

"_I have something I have to pick up," explained Monique. "And if I don't, it'll be a total FD. To save the time it'd take you to ask, 'FD' stands for 'Fashion Disaster.'" _

"_Oh, so it's like an assistant manager thing you have to do for Club Banana," said Ron, sure he'd figured it out._

"_Yeah, let's go with that," Monique answered, nodding. "Well, it's something that comes with a time limit and I need Kim's get-out-of-school free pass, so Kim put me through to Wade and Wade bounced the call for help right back to Kim, so it's all nice and legit." _

"_Monique!" said Ron, visibly shocked. "I can't believe you'd ask Kim to do something that... that…"_

"_That you wish you thought of yourself?" she offered._

"_Yes!" he replied, folding his arms indignantly._

"_Come on, Monique," urged Kim, grabbing her friend's arm. "If we want to make it back before the end of lunch, we have to go now. Sorry we can't eat together, Ron. I promise I'll make it up to you tonight."_

"_Oh, you know she will," Monique purred, with a smile to shame a Cheshire Cat. _

"_Come __**on**__, Monique," said irate redhead, giving her friend's arm a less than gentle squeeze before turning back to her boyfriend. "Meet me back here after school, okay Baby?"_

_Before he could think too hard about anything Monique had said, Ron felt Kim's free hand slide behind his head right before she pulled him into another kiss. That, combined with the totally unexpected pet name she'd used for him, left him too dazed to think too hard about anything, period. _

_He nodded slowly, not quite ready to form words yet, and watched her smile as she brought her hand back in front of his face. She lightly traced an outline of his lips with her index finger before she gave him a playful boop on the nose. Ron had to fight to keep his eyes from rolling up into his head. Vaguely, he thought he heard the sound of a portly twelve year old genius retching. Managing to mumble a "See ya later," he watched her as she started to walk away. She hadn't gone six steps when he heard a familiar voice calling his name._

"_Hey, Ron! Race you to the cafeteria!" _

"_Whuh… race to the cafeteria?" he muttered, more to himself than anyone else. "Why would anybody want to get there __**faster**__ than somebody els- __**WAAAAAAAAAAA!!!**__"_

_Ron immediately put his internal debate on hold as a blurred image of his four-wheeled friend passed him moving at speeds you'd only see on the Autobahn. The blur passed within inches of him, which was more than enough to spin him around in place. It was around the thirty-seventh revolution when he finally came to a stop, leaving him stumbling from one bank of lockers to the next. The only thing stopping him from spewing all over the floor was the fact that it kept randomly switching places with the ceiling, which made him more that a little paranoid. _

"_**Felix**__!" he shouted once the school pulled out of its barrel roll. "__**Indoor**__ velocity, Man!"_

OOOOO**whoosh**OOOOO

"Status report… anybody?" the captain asked, weakly.

"Systems are normalizing, Captain," Frege answered instantly, being the only one on the command deck not doubled over with his head in his hands.

"Several decks have requisitioned mops and fresh uniforms, but they're alright, Sir," Indlebe responded a few moments later. "I should have confirmation from the remaining decks in the next minute."

"The external modifications of the _Felix Renton_ are truly impressive," said the Science Officer, though he didn't sound especially impressed. "If we were to submit a request to the _Wade Load_, the _Ron Stoppable_ could be similarly outfitted with relative ease."

"With _this_ jackass driving?" asked Propriov as he wiped his mouth and contemplated requisitioning his own mop. "What? You want to go from crashing at 2 miles an hour to crashing at 200? Nuh-uh, no. I say screw that idea with a rusty bayonet."

"**Captain**, **I lost my controls**!" the helmsman shouted as he frantically looked around him.

"You know, you _really_ don't have to help me, Kenshin, I can make a point fine on my own," the navigator growled. "Now shut up and turn your chair back the right way."

Pausing for a second, Luloni slowly looked over his shoulder to find his station right where he'd left it. Sheepishly he spun his chair and busied himself with trying to keep the ship from wobbling any more than it already was. Meanwhile, across the room, the Communications Officer was starting to worry.

"Captain, I still haven't gotten any response from the aft decks," he said, concerned. "I don't understand. It's like… wait, I'm getting something … Sir, I think it's Duff!"

"Patch it through, hurry!" said Haupt, his dizziness forgotten.

"I did, Sir," he said, tensely. "He's not saying anything."

"Well, for God's sake, do something!" the captain practically shouted. "**Duff**! Say something! Can you hear me?"

"… S-sir" came a faint voice over the COM system.

"Duff, what's happening? What's wrong?"

"So… c-c-cold."

"Duff? **DUFF!**"

"The transmission cut off, Sir," said Idlebe. "No one's responding."

"Frege," Capt. Haupt said, turning quickly. "Check the core temperature, now!"

"Core temperature reads normal, Captain," answered the officer. "As such, any profound change in temperature would logically be the result of some external factor."

"External…" Haupt froze when the realization hit him. "Call Lt. Akshan, have the eyes sweep the lower decks, I want full visual."

The order went out and, soon, the image on the view screen panned downwards. Several of the officers gasped at what they saw, but Haupt only confirmed what he'd already suspected.

"Send out a general alert," he said, grimly. "Gentlemen, we are experiencing a Class 6 Wardrobe Malfunction."

OOOOO**whoosh**OOOOO

_Ron blinked. Then he blinked again, hoping that somehow he'd open his eyes and wouldn't see his skinny calves and polka-dot boxer shorts. It didn't work. Once again, his pants were gone. Only this time, they were really gone. As in, not around his ankles, hanging on a tree branch, or sailing on a grapple line gone. They just weren't there anymore. _

_On the one hand, he was thankful that the hall was practically clear, seeing as most of the student body was already in the cafeteria. On the other hand, he had a pretty good idea that that was exactly where his pants were currently heading at subsonic speeds. Grumbling, he took off in a dead sprint towards his eventual humiliation. For the moment, he forgot about the reaction he noticed from Kim. She'd seen him lose his pants five or six __**dozen**__ times before, so why, this time, did he get the impression that she was sort of… staring?_

_Just as Ron was about to burst through the cafeteria door, a serpentine mechanical arm yanked him over to one side. He felt himself being tossed up into the air only to land in his own outstretched pants. Politely waving off the robotic claws, he opted to zip himself up without any additional assistance. With a triumphant grin, Felix handed him a still sleeping Rufus. Marveling at his hairless buddy's ability to sleep through something that would make a veteran astronaut toss his freeze-dried cookies, he returned the rodent to his waiting pocket, right after he made sure that Rufus hadn't tossed anything in there, himself. He looked up, bringing himself eye to eye with the trouser thief._

"_You're the devil," he said, softly._

"_I try," Felix replied, smiling unapologetically. "C'mon, let's get in line."_

_As usual, the prospect of a meal was more than enough to make Ron forget about the indignities he'd suffered a few seconds before. They walked and rolled to the end of an already dwindling line and filled their trays with whatever the other students had left behind. The senior table was full, but they managed to find a little spot in the corner. _

"_I have to say, Ron, that was a cozy little rendezvous I broke up back there," his friend said, gingerly picking the fuzzy brown bits out of his salad. "Forgetting, for the moment, what Barkin would've done if he saw you two undermining his precious little PDA regulations, I have to say I thought Kim seemed to be getting a little… frisky, if you know what I mean."_

_The freckled boy shot him a scowl which quickly faded into a look of helpless confusion. Pausing every so often to take a bit of his lunch, he described Kim's behavior that day, starting at her house and ending with the suspiciously lingering glance at his underpants. _

"_It's not like we never kissed before or anything. Most of the time, I'll get one in the morning as soon as we're in the Sloth and off her dad's radar. Then there's dates, or after a long mission, or even if I get a better than average grade on a paper. Granted, Wade pops up a lot of the time, so we can't. Actually, now that I think about it, it's almost like he waits until we're right about to…"_

"_So you two kiss a lot," said Felix, throwing off Ron's line of thinking. "Did you have a point somewhere, or were you just bragging?" _

"_My point is that it's been different today," he said, a little flustered. "__**She's**__ been different today. One mintue she's all over me, and the next she's ignoring me, and then the __**next**__ she's pulling me in for these mind-blowing kisses that leave me all dazed at tingly and… and…"_

"_And you're bragging again," Felix groaned. "I still can't believe you're bailing on High-def Zombie Mayhem action so you can go make out."_

"_Dude, we have __**got**__ to find you a girl one of these days."_

"_Yeah, yeah," he muttered darkly. _

"_I don't know, man," said Ron, suddenly sounding very tired as he stabbed at another bit of food. "It's not like I'm complaining or anything, but all of this coming out of left field."_

"_Geez, this whole thing has you messed up pretty bad," remarked Felix, looking strangely at his friend._

"_Oh, _really_?" he answered with no small amount of sarcasm. "Whatever gave you that idea?"_

"_Well, for starters, you just took a bite of mystery meat."_

OOOOO**whoosh**OOOOO

"Okay, men, this is not a drill. I repeat, this is **not** a drill."

Lieutenant Commander Spencer Paunch looked over the crewmen gathered before him. Fresh, young, strong, armed with the most advanced defensive and offensive technology available. They didn't have a prayer.

"Men, behind these blast doors, there is a level 9 bio-contaminant entity. That won't mean a damn thing to any of you beyond what you read about in your training manuals. The truth is, there's nothin' I can say, nothin' they wrote about in that little book, that's gonna give you the sheer testicular fortitude it takes to look the devil in the face and still remember to fire your goddamn weapon. That's what you're fightin' in there. Not bad egg roll or some uncooked pork. Those are the wallflowers. Today, you boys are dancin' with the bell of the ball. Are we gonna keep her waitin'."

"**SIR, NO SIR**!"

"Are we gonna let her rip this poor bastard apart from the inside out?"

"**SIR, NO SIR!**"

"WHO ARE WE?"

"**SECURITY SQUAD 27: GUT BUSTERS, HOO RAH!**"

"OPEN THE DOORS!"

The armored men surged into the room, howling and grunting like animals as they crowded the narrow catwalk. All too quickly, the shouts died down. There was no attack. No snarling beast. Just a maze of railed platforms extended over a bubbling, churning sea of acidic sludge. The only sound was coming from their own boots on the metal mesh floors as they moved forward, now only inches at a time, weapons sweeping from one side to the next in a fruitless search for a target. At the rear flank, a crewman nervously elbowed the man next to him. Not getting a response, he tried again with a bit more effort, earning an angry stare from the man in question.

"Hey," whispered the twitchy squad member. "Do you think it's even in here?"

No answer, other than an annoyed grunt and a gesture to remind him he needed to watch their six. Undaunted, he tried his elbow one last time.

"Well, if it _is_ in here, where is it?" he hissed. "How's something that big supposed to hiiiiIIII**IIIIIIIIIII--**"

The crewman's scream was instantly silenced with a very wet crunch. The rest of the rear flank was tripping over themselves trying to push themselves to the front. Those few that remembered their weapons couldn't get a clear shot around their scrambling comrades. The catwalk groaned as the creature swung itself the rest of the way over it. The same thought went through nineteen different minds in an instant.

The training manual wasn't even close.

OOOOO**whoosh**OOOOO

"_Come on, stay with me, Man. Stay with me!"_

"_Can't… hold on… Tell… KP…"_

"_You tell her yourself, you hear me, Stoppable? You tell her __**yourself**__!"_

_Ron felt Felix gripping his hand even tighter. He was laying face up on one of the chairs with his head and shoulders cradled in the other boy's lap. Needless to say, they were drawing a crowd. _

OOOOO**whoosh**OOOOO

Years of drills and theory were thrown out the window. There was nothing left but instinct. The creature was tearing through their armored suits like tinfoil. Their weapons didn't even make a dent in its thick, gnarled hide. Lt. Commander Paunch was in the thick of it, no longer considering victory but simply trying to rally his men to the point that they might actually be able to force their way back to the blast doors. As his shouts were lost in the screams of terror an agony, he felt a tap at his shoulder. Turning he saw a young man who'd only joined the squad that month, a raw recruit barely old enough to serve. He was about to order the boy to fall back when he heard him yell.

"Sir, tell Counselor Sofia I loved her!"

Before Paunch could say or do anything to stop him, the rookie ran at the creature as fast as the heavy gear would let him. Shouting and cursing up at it, he managed to get its attention, but didn't make any effort to stop it from worming its cruel fingers around his body and lifting him to its gaping mouth. As he was dangling over the open jaws, he jerked his arm out of the creature's grasp, bringing his weapon to bear before firing directly down its throat. The jaws snapped shut, effectively severing the young man's arm at the elbow. Before his body could even register the pain, it was flung over the side of the catwalk. The crewman looked up during his long fall, watching the creature writhe in its agony. He managed a pained smile.

"Security squad 27… gut busters… hoo rah…"

He was dead before he even registered that he hit the acid.

"Damn crazy kid," Paunch said through grit teeth, forcing down tears he couldn't cry in front of his men. "Damn reckless… stupid-brave… heroic, crazy kid."

They gathered their wounded and their fallen, the ones that left behind something to carry, anyway. Another detachment would be along soon to deal with the creature's remains. Those were the guys that showed up after all the _real_ work was done. The Lt. Commander stopped as he passed the bloated thing that hurt so many of his boys. Silently, he put a foot on its lower jaw, then he put his hands between the lips and lifted up. Two of the braver squad members held the mouth open for him as he crawled inside. Moments later he came back carrying a weapon that was scratched and dented, but looked oddly brand new.

There was another spot on the mantelpiece that needed filling.

OOOOO**whoosh**OOOOO

"_Felix?"_

"_Yeah? What is it Ron? Talk to me, Buddy."_

"_I think… I think I'm gonna be okay."_

"_Well of course you're gonna be okay, you big baby," grumped the elderly voice behind them as Cafeteria Lady prepared for the long lonely journey back to her cats. "My food may not be '_four star cuisine,' _or any of that gibberish, but it's made with__** love**_,_ you sorry little ingrates. Grow a backbone and get your scrawny behinds to class. Lunch is over."_

_The two friends watched as she stormed out of the now empty cafeteria. Without meaning to, they found themselves voicing the exact same thought._

"_Why doesn't anybody fire her?"_

OOOOO**whoosh**OOOOO

To Be Continued In…

"Turning On Intruders"

**

* * *

Author's Note**: When I checked my stats this morning, I saw that the hits on Boldly Go added up to 1111. Impressive, not really considering the hits on so many other stories, but it made me want to post. A few possibly out of character moments for Kim, but I think it fits her current situation. Before any Felix fans (you know who you are) try to lynch me, the man was turned down by his best friend for their favorite activity. He was less than pleased. Some of the jokes in this one were a little obscure, but I hope you all caught them. 

Thanks very much to those who reviewed the last chapter: **CajunBear73** (I'll do whatever I can to get you liquored up as soon as possible), **Lathis** (Thank you so much for showing me I didn't just write that joke for myself), **Mr. Wizard** (We shouldn't be so quick to date ourselves by talking about old high school memories), **spectre666** (It's good to know that you think I'm stealing from the best), **wopr** (Yep, I'd say everything on that other ship is tighter), and **Ultimate Naco Topping** (I'm waiting for the episode where Barkin finally comes out and admits it.)

Feedback is what keeps this thing alive. Leave a review, I'll respond.

All Blessings to You from the Blinding Fists of Mercy,

-Brother Bludgeon

_Kim Possible_ created by Mark McCorkle and Robert Schooley.  
_Star Trek_ created by Gene Roddenberry


	6. Turning On Intruders

**BOLDLY GO**

* * *

"Turning On Intruders"

* * *

OOOOO**whoosh**OOOOO 

_Two young men waited side by side in front of a locker that neither one could open. One standing, one seated. One solidly determined. One vaguely annoyed. _

"_Alright, Felix," said Ron, steeling himself for the upcoming confrontation. "She could show up any second. When she does, you know what to do."_

"_Pretend I don't know you?" he asked, dismally. _

"_Felix!" whined the blond, destroying any illusion of seriousness. "I really need you on this one. I'm worried about Kim. And I'm pretty sure that, if I just ask her, she's gonna say there's nothing wrong, and then she's gonna tell me to forget about it, and then she's probably gonna kiss me, and that pretty much guarantees I __**will**__ forget about it. But, if you're here, you can snap me out of it if she plays the 'kissy-face' card. You know I can't do this alone."_

"_You're asking me to keep your brain from turning to mush in front of a pretty girl. A pretty girl that actually __**wants**__ to kiss you. Why not just ask me to part Lake Middleton? Hey, while I'm at, why don't I go ahead and solve world hunger? I obviously don't have anything better to do tonight."_

"_Are you doing this for me or not?" Ron asked, humorlessly._

"_Of course I'm doing this," answered Felix, instantly. "You're my best friend. It's not like I have a choice, here. I just wish you could listen to that little voice in your head that tells you when you're about to do something monumentally stupid."_

OOOOO**whoosh**OOOOO

"This is _monumentally_ stupid."

"Thank you, Counselor," muttered Capt. Haupt. "I'll be sure to take that under advisement."

"Sir, when I said that we needed to reestablish communications with the _Kim_, I didn't mean _ambushing_ her in front of her locker!" pleaded Sofia. "We need to do this right. We need to escort her to neutral space, someplace where she won't feel threatened. A public confrontation like this is only going to lead to the same possessive behavior she was exhibiting this morning."

"Well, obviously, I considered that possibility or else we would've waited," Haupt answered frostily. "That's what the _Felix_ is here for."

"The _Felix_? The _Felix_ is nowhere near equipped to deal with something like this."

"Counselor Sofia, if there's only one thing I know, it's the art of distraction. I have faith that the _Felix_ can pull us out of whatever the _Kim_ throws at us, and my crew agrees with me. Isn't that right, Mr. Frege?"

"I must concur, Captain," answered the Science Officer.

"Thank you," said the captain, triumphantly.

"You misunderstand, Captain," Frege added quickly. "I concur with the Counselor's original statement. This is, indeed, monumentally stupid."

OOOOO**whoosh**OOOOO

"_So, you're going to confront her? Ask her why she's been acting so weird?" asked Felix._

"_That's the master plan, yeah," Ron answered, still staring down the hall in the direction he assumed Kim would be coming. _

"_So why are we here?"_

"_Huh?" Ron's head whipped back to Felix at the unexpected question. _

"_Why are we here?" his friend repeated. "You know where she has her last class. Why not be there right when she gets out?"_

"_Well I, uh… She…"_

"_She…?"_

"_She sort of… told me to meet her here after school and then she… you know…" _

"_Sent you to Happy Town on the Tongue-Kiss Express?"_

"_No!" he snapped, defensively. "Well, not the 'tongue' part, anyway."_

"_But you __**did**__ go to Happy Town," pressed Felix._

"_I… yeah," he admitted. _

"_And you figure, if you're waiting here like a good little boyfriend, she's gonna send you on a return trip when she gets here."_

"_No…" said Ron, sounding less than convincing. _

"_Of course not. You're just worried about her, and you already told her you'd be here so trying to meet her at her class would only complicate things if she got out early or something."_

"_Yeah, that's it!" the blond said excitedly. "That is __**exactly**__ it! Thank you, Felix!" _

"_And you're not just gonna stand there and let her kiss you without telling you what's bothering her."_

"_You're darn right, I'm not! Ron Stoppable is nobody's personal meat puppet!"_

"_Well then warm up the couch, Dr. Phil," said Felix gesturing to the hall behind Ron. "She's right behind you."_

"_Hey Felix," Kim said casually, before walking up to her BFBF and continuing in a slightly softer, breathier voice. "Hi Ron. Sorry I took so long. Did you miss me?"_

"_Uh-huh," he managed to answer back, shuddering slightly when she slid her hands up his chest before they moved around his neck._

"_Girl, save some for tonight," Monique cautioned cheekily. "Unless you want to give us all a floor show."_

"_Oh, please don't," said an increasingly uncomfortable Felix. _

"_You're one to talk," said Monique, grinning at the boy's uneasiness. "It's not like __**we**__ decided school was the right place for a game of 'capture the pants,' Wheels." _

"_Well, if I'd known I was just adding fuel to the fire, I would've found some other way to get the guy's attention, Functioning Legs," he quipped, matching her smirk before looking back at Ron and frowning. "Speaking of attention… Ron. Ron!"_

"_Hmm?" he answered, currently lost in a pair of emerald green eyes. _

"_Wasn't there something you wanted to tell Kim?" his friend reminded him. "Something important?"_

"_Yeah," said Ron, still grinning like a moron._

"_And…" Felix said after a pause. "What did you want to say?"_

"_Your hair smells nice," the freckled teen said, dreamily. _

"_Yeah, that's it," Felix deadpanned softly, burying his face in his hands. "That's exactly it. Thank you, Ron."_

"_Awww, Ron," she gushed. "That is __**so**__ sweet."_

_The redhead leaned her head up and gave the boy a quick kiss on the tip of his nose before giggling and moving in for a noticeably less quick one on his lips. Monique smiled and shook her head. How the heck had it taken those two more than a __**decade**__ to get together?_

OOOOO**whoosh**OOOOO

Richard Haupt sat very still in his slightly raised captain's chair. Crewmen around him were attempting to reboot unresponsive terminals and, occasionally, dousing electrical fires. At this point in the day, it was admittedly difficult for anyone to get too excited about osculation-induced multiple systems failure, but the captain seemed downright oblivious. Not because he was feeling particularly calm. He wasn't. At least, he didn't look calm. He certainly didn't look happy. He stared up at the flickering view screen with his neck muscles tense enough to show through his skin. It was almost as though there was something behind him that he really didn't want to look at. The tension in the captain's form seemed to build and build until, after what seemed like an eternity, there was a small sound from the back of the room.

"Something to say, Counselor Sofia?" the captain asked, voice clearly strained.

"Hmm? Oh, no, Captain," she answered softly. "I had to clear my throat."

"So you don't have anything to say?" he asked skeptically. "Anything at all?"

"No, Sir," said Sofia. "I don't know if it would really be my place to speak."

"You're sure? You don't want to say anything about my plan? The _Felix_? Maybe that I should've kept the _Kim_ at a distance where we could've kept communications from being adversely affected by the, um… maneuver she performed."

"Like I said, I'm not sure it's my place to say," she repeated, gently.

"Oh…" murmured the Captain. "Because, if you did have something to say… Well, I'd probably want to hear it."

"Really, Sir?"

"Of course, Counselor. Your opinion is incredibly valuable to me. I've always said you have a unique perspective on any situation we find ourselves in."

"Well, thank you, Captain," she answered, her tone sweetly appreciative. "Now, are you sure you want to hear what I have to say?"

"Yes, I am"

"Are you _really_ sure?"

"Yes, Counselor Sofia, I'm sure."

"And you won't get mad."

"You have my word, I will **not** get angry."

"Well, Captain, there really isn't too much to say," she said nonchalantly. "It's likely that we won't get too much information this way, but we have the whole evening to try again. I'm sure the _Kim_ will be more cooperative when we get her somewhere more private and, if we start now, we should be able to prep the systems so they won't meltdown every time she brushes up against the hull."

"Huh." said the captain, slightly stunned at this point. "I… That was very helpful, Counselor. Thank you. I'll ask Mr. Frege to see about setting up some safeguards. Was there anything else?"

"I don't know…"she said, hesitantly. "I don't think I should say any more."

"Don't be ridiculous," Haupt said, warmly. "Please, say whatever's on your mind."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, please tell me what you have to say," Capt. Haupt said quickly, hoping to avoid having to convince her another time. "That's an **order**."

"Well, if it's an _order_…," she began, before a wicked smirk stretched across her face and she cleared her throat before speaking in a very clear and aggravatingly self-satisfied voice.

"I _**told **_you _so_."

OOOOO**whoosh**OOOOO

"_Ron," Felix repeated for what had to be the fifteenth time before he finally snapped and raised his voice. "For God's sake, man, come up for __**air**__!"_

"_Huh, wha?" the other teen stammered and, much to his girlfriend's annoyance, he pulled back from the kiss._

"_So, Felix," said Kim, trying very hard to sound more friendly than she felt. "Were you planning on going anywhere this weekend?"_

"_Like far, far away from my locker right __**now**__," she added so low under her breath, not even Ron could hear her. _

"_Nope, probably just going to putter around the old homestead," he answered, showing no sign of picking up her subtle clues to leave. "I did have some plans for tonight, but they cancelled on me at the last minute. Hey, were you asking 'cause you wanted to invite me over to hang out or something, 'cause I guess I'd be down for that."_

"_No you __**can't**__!" she said quickly to keep Ron from thoughtlessly confirming the invitation, but it sounded much harsher than she'd intended. "I mean, Ron and I already have plans. Sorry to hear about yours, though." _

"_Yeah, I bet you're __**real**__ broken up over it," he breathed inaudibly before speaking normally again. "Hey, don't worry about me. Oh, that reminds me. Ron, you remember what we were talking about today at lunch?"_

"_Um…" Ron tensed for a moment, suddenly remembering why Felix was with him in the first place. "Mystery Meat?"_

"_Before that," said Felix, knowing his friend's nervousness meant that he knew exactly what they were talking about. _

"_My, uh, World History quiz?" he asked hopefully._

"_I almost forgot," Kim piped in, eager to bring the conversation back to the two of them. "How was your quiz? Do you think you did alright?"_

"_Well, I didn't get as much chance to study, you know, because I was sick," said Ron. "But, yeah, I think I did alright."_

"_That's great, congratulations!" she said, happily._

"_Well, I don't know if I deserve congratulations, but mmrph… mmmm," he said before Kim decided to give him his reward whether he thought he deserved one or not. _

"_So __**that's**__ how you got him to start studying," Monique said, thoughtfully. _

"_Yep, mule training 101," Felix said, slightly peeved that Kim wasn't playing fair. "Bad behavior gets the stick. Good behavior gets the carrot. Or, in this case, the carrot top."_

"_Not sure I'd call him a mule, but the boy does have the ears for it," she observed, a fairly impish grin forming. "Makes me wonder if there's anything else on him that's the right __**size**__ for a mule…"_

_Now it was Kim's turn to pull back. At this point, she was blushing a deep crimson and sending a Monique a smoldering death glare. Felix saw his opening and, after flashing the dark-haired fashion maven beside him a grateful smile, he pressed his attack._

"_Now what were we saying before? Oh yeah! That thing you said at lunch. I wish I could remember what it was. It sounded __**important**__. You know, like you were really __**worried**__ about something."_

_Before Kim could "politely" withdraw them from the conversation, mostly wanting to withdraw from their increasingly irritating friends, she noticed Ron's eyes weren't meeting hers anymore. Instead, he was staring at his feet, looking like a child waiting to be punished after he'd been caught doing something wrong._

"_Ron, what is it?" she asked, concern for her best friend immediately shoving everything else aside. "What's wrong?"_

"_It's… I…" he desperately searched for the right words. "It's you, KP."_

_Those were not the right words._

"_What?" she asked, yanking her arms back out from around his neck. _

"_No," he backpedaled frantically. "No no no, that was not what I meant to say. I mean it is but it's not how I… What I'm trying to say is that you're what's got me worried, Kim. You've been acting funny all morning. I mean, you're fine for a while and then something happens and you get all jumpy. And then you keep kissing me, which I am __**not**__ complaining about, but I almost feel like you're just doing it so I won't notice when you start acting… different." _

_Ron flinched and waited. His eyes were shut tight, he couldn't see her reaction, but he had a feeling he'd hear it soon enough, and that it'd be pretty loud. He was wrong. He didn't hear it first, he felt it. Soft and slender arms found their way back around his neck, and his eyes flew open with surprise. In front of him, he saw a look that he'd seen a thousand times since they were little. A look that said "you're clearly overreacting but, if you weren't, you wouldn't be my Ron." He stared at her smiling face and wanted to be "her Ron" so badly that he couldn't stop his own lop-sided grin as he slowly hugged her back to him. _

"_Think we should stop this before people start getting cavities?" asked Felix, watching the scene with the kind of involuntary fascination usually reserved for train wrecks._

"_**Shhh!**__" Monique scolded him. "This is better than Agony County." _

"_Okay," Kim said softly, ignoring their spectators completely. "I'll admit I might have been acting a little… strange today. You were out sick for three days. I missed you. If you think about it, that's the longest we've been apart, really apart, since we started dating. Any other time when we can't be together, there's always the Kimmunicators, but Rufus wouldn't even let you out of bed to answer. He was so worried you weren't getting enough rest. At least, I think that's what he was saying."_

"_Yeah, the little guy takes pretty good care of me," said Ron, briefly taking moving his hand from Kim's waist to lightly pat the slumbering bulge in his pocket. _

"_Better than I did, anyway," she said, her face falling slightly. "You got sick because of me." _

"_Hey," he said as he brought a hand to her chin, tilting her face back up to his. "If a guy's gotta get sick, there are __**much**__ worse ways to go about it. Trust me on this one."_

"_That doesn't stop me from feeling guilty about it," said Kim, pressing her cheek into his hand. "I just wanted to make it up to you. That's what tonight is about. Why I want it to be perfect."_

"_I already told you. I'm going out with you, it's already perfect."_

_Once he'd said it, he was aware of two deep sighs behind him. One blissful, almost longing, from a delicate feminine voice. The other came pre-packaged with the grand-daddy of all eye-rolls. The latter reminded him of what he was supposed to be talking about in the first place, so he continued._

"_That means you don't have to get all freaked out. Remember, this is just me we're talking about. Plain old regular guy, Ron Stoppable. If you're driving yourself nuts figuring out a way to make me happy, you're trying way too hard."_

"_Ron, you are __**not **__regular," Kim said, insistently._

"_Got me there, KP," said a slightly playful Ron. "I'm definitely more of an 'irregular' guy."_

"_You know I didn't mean it like that," she pouted, but was thankfully holding back on the full puppy-dog treatment. "You're a great guy, and a great boyfriend. I've had the last couple days to think about just how great. I've actually had time to think about a lot of things, and making tonight really special for you was one of them. So, maybe I'll be a little amped until everything's ready. I know you worry about me. If you didn't, would you even think about following me all over the world to make sure I'm okay?"_

"_To be fair, I'm not the only one," he offered, thoughtfully. "Wade, your mom, Monique, although, for some reason, I can't remember what mission she subbed in for… I want to say 'meat cakes' but that can't be right. Never mind. My point is that they all care enough about you to get your back, just like me."_

"_No, not just like you. Of course it was nice to know they were willing step up when I needed it, but did any of them ever volunteer again after their first mission? Wade still gets twitchy when somebody offers him hot chocolate. You've been doing this since we were twelve, and you're still there for me. All anyone else has to do is try to do what you do for one day, and they know why you're the only one I want out there with me. And why you're the only one I want to do _this_ with," she said, before pulling him in so their lips met again, this time not letting him go until she felt the tension in his neck and shoulders disappear completely. "I'm fine, Ron. Really. I give you too much to worry about as it is. This is just another one of my 'natural Kimness' sitches. You know I could never give anything less than 100 percent. You think I wouldn't try as hard for my BF? It'll all be worth it tonight, trust me."_

_Ron nodded languidly, eyes more than a little glazed over. He didn't even hear his friend's wheelchair motor as Felix maneuvered so the two of them were back to back, or back to hamstrings to be specific. _

"_Uh, personal meat puppet. Personal meat __**puppet**__. Per-so-nal __**meat puppet**__!" he whispered, nudging the blond insistently with his elbow as he did. _

"_**Kim**__ness," answered Ron through one side of his mouth, making sure to subtly gesture to his friend that it was a good time for him to leave. _

"_Word __**made up**__ by a personal meat puppet," he grumbled, dejectedly rolling back to his spot next to Monique._

OOOOO**whoosh**OOOOO

It certainly wasn't a pretty win, but he'd take it. Haupt grinned widely despite the fact that more than half of the higher cognitive functions were on the brink of failing. Around him many of the other crewmen had visibly relaxed, no longer tense as they went about preventing their various systems from overloading. Only one of them had seen the _Kim_'s last communication as anything but a step in the right direction.

"Captain," Sofia began, before Haupt swiveled his chair to meet her directly.

"Yes, Counselor?" said the captain eagerly. "Anything I can do for you?"

"You can tell me you didn't fall for that," she answered.

"Now, you wait just a minute," Capt. Haupt cautioned her, though it didn't faze her at all.

"You _did_," she said, miserably. "Why do I even bother? I don't know which captain I should be more disappointed in, my old one for having since noon to come up with a decent excuse and not having anything better than that, or my new one for believing it?"

"Are you suggesting that everything the _Kim _just told us… was a lie?" Haupt asked and, suddenly, Sofia had the undivided attention of the entire command deck.

The counselor lifted her head from where it was cradled in her palm, instantly aware of how quiet it was. The general consensus seemed to be that the fate of the world rested on her answer, and if the ship went into total system failure before they got that answer, it'd have to wait. She could've sworn Mr. Luloni was trying not to cry.

"Not at all. Of course all of that was the truth," she said carefully, but still trying to maintain her indignation. "But it wasn't the _truth_ truth."

The way they were looking at her, you would think she'd said it in Portuguese.

"That last communication was designed to sound like an explanation without actually giving us any information."

"_Ohhhh_!" seven men said in unison before nodding and turning back to their stations, leaving only the counselor and Captain Haupt.

"I'm not saying I believe you," the captain said, reluctantly. "But, if the _Kim_ were keeping something from us, what would you recommend?"

"It has to do with the _Ron_, I'm sure of that now," answered Sofia. "Everything seems to be building up to whatever she has planned for tonight. I think it's safe to say we'll find out then. The _Kim_ wouldn't do anything to damage this ship on purpose."

"So, we wait?"

"Unless you want her to get angry."

"Captain, I think she's coming in for another one," shouted the navigator, quickly scattering Haupt's thoughts.

He and Counselor Sofia shared a look that said the matter could wait, and the captain returned his attentions to the view screen. Propriov hadn't been exaggerating. The _Kim_'s eyes were half-lidded and the corners of her mouth were drawn up in a maddeningly coy little smile. She knew full well their actions were forbidden in Middleton High space. The _Barkin_ was likely to be patrolling this sector soon if he hadn't started already. Haupt didn't even want to think about what would happen if they were caught, even in something as innocent as the embrace the _Kim _had locked them in.

"Captain, I have completed the safeguards you requested," said Frege, blandly. "They have already been integrated into our systems."

"You… how… what? **Already**?" the captain choked out. "You couldn't have been working on it for more than five minutes."

"Three minutes twenty-seven seconds, Captain," the Science Officer corrected him. "I was able to adapt the pre-existing safeguards designed to override the _Ron Stoppable_'s terror response to simian stimuli. As with the terror response, the ship will have to endure the sensations elicited by natural pleasure response, but damages to the systems themselves will be minimized and the time required to recover full system functionality will be decreased by 85.831 percent."

"That's it?" Haupt asked, stunned. "It couldn't possibly be that simple. Are you telling me the solution's been right there this whole time and we never bothered to use it before now?"

"In all fairness, Captain, there was no real urgency to seek out a solution. Previous exposures to the _Kim Possible_'s affections were typically followed by several hours of inactivity to allow for repairs. The 'interlude' between our two ships four days ago was the longest of its kind."

"And it wreaked enough havoc on our systems to leave us totally defenseless," the captain added, solemnly. "Yes, I'd say we've been a little distracted since then. So, you're sure these new safeguards will hold?"

"Yes, Captain," Frege answered plainly.

"Good, because she's heading right for us. Looks like we may actually get to enjoy this."

OOOOO**whoosh**OOOOO

_Kim's eyes slid closed as she leaned in slowly. One of her eyes cracked open for a brief moment, and her smile deepened when she saw that Ron was going along with it. Ron, for his part, was thoroughly pleased with himself for following through with his plan of confronting Kim. He'd have to thank Felix for his help, after he'd finished enjoying the spoils of his victory, of course. Their lips were barely a hair's width apart._

_**Beep Beep Bebeep **_

_Two sets of teeth clenched. Two faces twisted into grimaces. _

"_Oh, for the love of…" Kim growled, softly._

"_Um… KP?" Ron asked, feebly._

_The redhead looked down and immediately realized she was the only one grimacing out of anger when she noticed her fingers were digging into her boyfriend's neck. She quickly released her grip and tried to apologize before Ron silenced her with a sheepish smile as he subtly checked himself for open wounds. _

_**Beep Beep Bebeep**_

_Her eyes darkened again as she turned to face the source of the offending tones. With a huff, she dialed out the combination of her locker and roughly swung open the door, revealing the smiling face of Team Possible's boy geniuis computer technician and unofficial mood killer. The chubby African American pre-teen was about to give another of his patented "Hey Kim" greetings when he saw the look in the cheerleader/super heroine's eyes. _

"_Uh…" _

"_Hello, __**Wade**__," she said, icily._

"_Uh…"_

"_Yes?"_

"_Uh…"_

"_Wade, if don't tell me what's going on __**right now**__, I swear I'll…"_

"_Uh…"_

"_Um, Girl?" said Monique from behind them. "I think you broke him." _

_Kim looked back at her friend in confusion before turning back to the screen in her locker. Wade was staring back with wide eyes, his Super Slurpster sloshing in his trembling hand. Her expression softened as she mentally kicked herself for taking out her frustrations on the poor boy for doing what was essentially his job. _

"_Sorry, Wade," she said, guiltily. "I didn't mean to harsh on you like that."_

"_Man, Kim…" the boy said, wiping some sweat off his forehead. "I never knew you could be so… scary. I'm really sorry if I interrupted anything."_

"_Well we… Ron and I were…" Kim found herself blushing trying to explain the situation to their much younger friend. "It doesn't matter. What's the sitch?"_

"_Drakken and Shego," Wade answered, slowly starting to relax into their routine again. _

"_Aw man," Ron whined. "Didn't they just escape from prison last week?"_

"_And they're already breaking the law," said Kim, wearily. _

"_Actually, they haven't broken any laws, aside from the breakout, that is," the computer genius corrected her. _

"_What?" she asked, some of the previous frustration creeping back into her voice. "Are you saying you called to tell us that Drakken and Shego __**aren't**__ doing anything illegal?"_

"_I… er no, I mean…" Wade stammered before he started frantically typing commands into his computer, calling up images of several high-tech facilities. "Last night, there were seventeen shipments of cutting edge equipment delivered to different locations all over the world. When they arrived this morning, each piece of machinery was missing at least one component." _

_The images of the various labs and offices were replaced by a single display as Wade played the security footage from the shipping company's warehouse. There was no real activity until Kim noticed a flash in the lower right-hand corner of the screen. The feed paused and Wade magnified and enhanced the image, bringing of a surprisingly clear shot of a person's leg covered with a green and black uniform and surrounded by an eerie green glow._

"_Shego," Kim confirmed, darkly. _

"_So Drakken had Shego steal them?" asked Ron, confused. "Wait, doesn't stealing count as breaking the law?"_

"_Not if none of the owners reported anything stolen," the tech guru answered. "All the missing parts were totally non-essential. No authorities were called. Most of the technicians didn't even bother complaining to the shipping company."_

"_So which one of them called us for help?" Kim asked._

"_Um, none of them, actually," Wade responded, hesitantly. _

"_Then how did you even find out about any of this?" she pressed him._

"_Well, I… One of those deliveries was a new type of microprocessor for Organoware Corp," he explained._

"_Organoware?" Felix spoke up from behind them. "The software developer behind the Everlot series?"_

"_Yeah, that's them," Wade answered gingerly. "I sort of have my systems set to monitor their offices and alert me if there's anything that could potentially delay the release of Everlot II."_

_Kim and Monique stared at the round-faced boy with a mixture of disappointment and pity. _

"_Hey, it's a public service," he said, defensively. "I post everything I find online. The people have a right to know!"_

"_Okay, aside from delaying your online playtime," said Kim, "What's so bad about Drakken getting his hands on a bunch of useless parts?"_

"_Not useless, Kim," the boy assured her. "Non-essential for the machines they were in. These devices were top of the line. They were built using the most advanced technology money can buy."_

"_So all Drakken has to do is find some way to combine them and he's got an insanely high-tech weapon," said Felix, seeing where Wade was going. "What kind of stuff did he take? Maybe you could try and figure out what he's building."_

"_Already on it," he answered confidently. _

_The screen changed again to a series of schematics. The different parts were rotating in three dimensions, combining with one another seemingly at random. Every few seconds, the animation would halt and the words "NON FUNCTIONAL DEVICE" would flash over it. _

OOOOO**whoosh**OOOOO

Mr. Frege stared up at the images flashing across the main screen. His jaw was set in quiet concentration. The veins on his scalp quivered in activity. After a few seconds, he turned to Captain Haupt.

"A long-range graviton particle beam cannon, Captain," he said, no hint of doubt in his voice.

"A long-range gravitational what?" asked Haupt uncertainly.

"The device that the _Dr. Drakken _is planning to fabricate with the stolen components, Captain," he replied. "Of the six possible configurations requiring all of said components, a long-range graviton particle beam cannon is well within the _Dr. Drakken_'s ability to engineer and its malignant applications are the most compatible with his typical modus operandi."

"Right," the captain said, slowly. "Um, good work, Mr. Frege. I think we'll just hold off on contacting the other ships until the _Wade_ is finished running his tests."

"That would be highly illogical, Captain. The _Wade Load_ is currently probing for information that we already possess."

"And it might be more prudent to let him find the answer on his own."

"I do not understand, Captain."

"He's saying if, by some miracle, you're actually right about this… 'gravity beach party' thing, they're all going to start looking at us funny for outthinking the _H.S.S Geekboy_'s supercomputers," the navigator explained caustically. "I, for one, don't much like the idea of getting **dissected**, thank you very much."

OOOOO**whoosh**OOOOO

"_Looks like you have everything under control for now, Wade," said Kim, as her friend's image replaced the moving schematics. "Why don't you come up with a list of potential hideouts and get back to us, say… first thing Monday?"_

"_No need, Kim," he cheerfully replied. "It looks like Drakken decided to go all out on his delivery plan. The shipping company's cargo manifest shows a priority package for a Dr. Andrew Lipsky D.M.S."_

"_D.M.S.?" asked Ron._

"_Doctor of Mad Science," answered Monique, easily. _

"_Oh," said the blond teen. "Who would've guessed Monique-speak could be used for evil?"_

"_Should we really be doing this?" Kim asked, trying not to let desperation creep into her voice. "I mean, you said it yourself, Wade, they didn't technically break the law this time."_

"_Yeah, but that still leaves the two consecutive life sentences they didn't exactly finish serving," he reminded her, raising an eyebrow in confusion._

"_Oh, right. That," said Kim, _

"_Yeah… that. Well, about that package for 'Dr. Lipsky.' Just before they delivered it, the shipping company weighed it and noticed it was sixty-eight pounds heavier than it was listed to be," Wade continued. "It was C.O.D., so they just tacked on a fifty dollar penalty for the extra weight when they delivered it to, surprise surprise, one of Drakken's old lairs. I 'borrowed' the address from the company's database."_

"_Great, Wade," said Kim, not sounding particularly enthusiastic. "You rock."_

"_Uh, you're welcome?"_

"_KP what's gotten into…," said Ron before he stopped himself. "Never mind, I get it."_

"_**You**__ get it?" asked Wade, trying not to sound too surpised._

"_Kim and I made plans for tonight, and a mission might really cut into the 'us' time," he said, earning a look of almost shocked gratitude from his girlfriend. "Now, from where I'm standing, it looks like we're really ahead of the game on this one. Drakken just stole the stuff last night. No cops, so he knows he can take his time. I mean we really only caught this one by accident, right? I bet he thinks he has all the time in the world."_

"_Okay, now __**this**__ is scary…," said Wade with a laugh. "Ron just made a really good point. Drakken's probably too busy patting himself on the back for being sneaky to get any actual work done. We already know where he is and what he's up to. We can stop him whenever we want. I guess we could put this off for a little while. If it's taking this long for __**my**__ computer program to figure out what Drakken's building, how soon could __**he**__ possibly finish it?"_

"_Thanks for being so understanding, Wade," Kim said sincerely as she slid an arm around Ron's waist. _

"_No problem, guys," he said, a twinge of nervousness entering his voice as he watched his two friends moving closer together. "Well, I should probably go and… check the site for any new hits, yeah that's it. Enjoy your da… Whoa."_

_The boy's expression changed from slightly uncomfortable to royally freaked out before he could finish his sentence. He typed a few lines and stared back at his other monitor. The results didn't seem to calm him down._

"_I'm going to go out on a limb here and say that wasn't the good kind of 'whoa,'" said Ron, gloomily. _

"_Definitely the bad kind," answered Wade._

"_How bad?" asked Kim, not really wanting to hear the answer._

"_Real bad," he said, grimly. "I think I know what Drakken's trying to build. A long-range graviton particle beam cannon."_

"_A free-range gravy bean what-now?" asked Ron._

"_Picture the gravatomic ray from the nano-tick mission, only way more dangerous. Gravitons control the way bodies are attracted to each other. If I'm right, Drakken could use the beam cannon to pull every commercial and government satellite on this side of the planet out of orbit!"_

"_**Aaahhh**__! Death from above!" Ron shouted, ducking down and shielding his head with both arms. _

"_Amp down, Ron," Kim said, gently pulling him back up. "The satellites would all burn up when they hit Earth's atmosphere. And that means…" _

"_Uh-huh, it's back to the Dark Ages," said the pre-teen techie, gravely. "No cell phones, no GPS…"_

"_No satellite TV!" Ron said, wide-eyed. _

"_Ron, you don't have satellite TV," Kim reminded him, delicately._

"_I know, but I'm __**this**__ close to getting the folks to spring for it. All that hard work… wasted. I cleaned out the fridge, KP. The __**fridge**__! I had to touch leftover meatloaf covered in __**mushrooms**__!"_

"_What's so bad about that?" asked Monique._

"_My mom doesn't __**use **__mushrooms in her meatloaf recipe."_

"_Well then how…?" said Felix before he connected the dots. "Forget I asked. Ew."_

"_Guys, can we get back to the global crisis, please?" Wade asked, exasperated. _

"_What kind of damage can he do with this machine?" asked Kim, already slipping into mission mode, despite her best efforts. _

"_I doubt he could actually conquer the world with it," said Wade, thoughtfully. "But getting those satellites into space cost billions of dollars. I have to believe the government, not to mention all those multi-national corporations, would be willing to pay to keep them up there." _

"_Looks like we can't put this off," she admitted, sadly. "We'll need a ride to Drakken's lair, please and thank you."_

"_Thanks, Kim," said Wade, genuinely grateful that she was going to save his precious global communication's network. "This won't take long, I promise."_

"_No, it wont," Kim said, firmly. "__**I**__ promise."_

"_Your ride will be in front of the school in five. I'll see if I can figure out how to disable the cannon. Good luck."_

_Before they could wish him the same, the screen flickered off and Kim shut her locker door. Hard. She was busy muttering under her breath when she felt a tugging at her backpack. Craning her neck, she saw Ron with his hand on the zipper, trying to open the main compartment. _

"_Don't mind me, Kim," he said, casually. "I'm just looking for my spare mission shirt. I left one in your backpack after that thing with Proffessor Dementor last wee-EEEEEk!"_

_Ron arm was nearly jerked out of its socket when he she twisted to face him. Unfortunately, he wasn't there when she turned around because he hadn't let go of her pack, the rapid movement swinging him and slamming him face-first into a wall of lockers with a dull, metallic "thud." _

"_Oh, my God, Ron!" she said, rushing to his side. "Are you okay?"_

"_A-OP, KK…" he mumbled, wobbling slightly as he tried to stand. "I mean, A-KP, OK. You know, upon further review, maybe I'm not A-OK. What happened?"_

"_I… You were…" she stammered as she quickly closed the zipper on her backpack. "You just surprised me, that's all. Now, let's start moving. Our ride's going to be out front, soon. I just remembered, I cleaned out my backpack a few days ago and I left your mission shirt up in my room. We'll have them stop there on the way."_

"_You go ahead, I'll catch up in just a second," he said, reaching into one of his pockets that didn't contain a hairless rodent. _

"_Okay, but don't take too long," said Kim, then she turned and headed for the school's main exit. _

_Once she'd turned the corner, Ron fished out his own Kimmunicator. It was a simplified version of the one Kim carried, a Christmas present from the second shortest member of Team Possible, Rufus having the honor of being the shortest. Quickly, he pressed the large button labeled "WADE."_

"_Hey Ron, something wrong?" he asked, slightly confused to be seeing him again so soon._

"_No, no. Nothing wrong," the freckled teen answered. "I was just sort of wondering about what you said earlier."_

"_About the graviton cannon?" asked Wade._

"_Uh, not exactly. Don't get me wrong, real riveting stuff. I was thinking more along the lines of, you know…"_

"_Oh, that," Wade said, suddenly smiling. "So far as I can tell, Everlot II is still go for release the 15th of next month."_

"_Thanks a lot, buddy. Ron out," Ron said warmly as he shut off his Kimmunicator. "Well, guys, I'm off. Sorry about tonight, Felix. We'll definitely catch up soon."_

"_Why do I not believe you?" he answered, glumly. "Good luck, Stoppable. Hope you don't get clawed to pieces by some sadistic madwoman. But, hey, enough about your date, I hope the mission goes well, too."_

"_Ha ha, it is to laugh," said Ron, mirthlessly. "See you later, Monique."_

"_Lobster thermidor," she answered, simply._

"_What?" Ron had stopped in his tracks._

"_Browned lobster served on the half shell with a thick, creamy--" she explained before Ron waved a hand to stop her._

"_I know what lobster thermidor is, I made it for my parent's anniversary last year," he said, indignantly. "Of course, that was the same day we found out Dad was allergic to shellfish. On the plus side, before his face swelled up, he told me it was one of the best things he'd ever tasted."_

"_Well, that's good," she said sideling up to him and roguishly walking her fingers up the front of his shirt, stopping at his collar. She hooked two fingers into it and pulled him dangerously close. "Because __**I'm**__ not allergic to shellfish. You see, after tonight, you're going to find yourself wanting to thank me. I mean __**really**__ wanting to thank me. And I, being the considerate woman that I am, have decided to give you this little hint about what you can do to show your gratitude."_

"_Lobster thermidor?" he asked, totally lost._

"_Lobster thermidor," she nodded. "Now hurry up and get going, Blondie. You do __**not**__ want to keep a woman on a mission waiting. Go on, __**scoot**__!"_

_Her last word was reinforced by a gentle shove, followed by a firm slap to his backside. Ron's whole body stiffened and his eyes widened to the size of billiard balls. He looked back at her only to receive an insistent shooing gesture and one glance at Felix showed that he looked about as confused as Ron felt. He slowly turned and walked away, softly muttering to himself._

"_Use up a couple of your sick days and, BAM, suddenly everybody goes __**crazy**__…"_

OOOOO**whoosh**OOOOO

The _Ron_ had docked with the carrier ship without incident. The ride itself was going smoothly. All in all it left far too much time to think. Captain Haupt kept his head bowed in deep concentration. It was a rare thing, the tension on the command deck before a mission having little to do with the upcoming mission itself. Finally, he couldn't stand it any longer. He had to say something.

"Counselor Sofia?"

"I don't know," she said, instantaneously.

"I didn't even ask you anything yet," he said, slightly put off.

"With all due respect, Sir, it's not all that difficult to guess," she replied. "I can't account for the _Monique's_ behavior. I can't even begin to understand what she was talking about."

She hated to lie like that, especially to her commanding officer. The truth was that she did have some suspicions. It was the nature of those suspicions that forced her to deceive her captain like this. For whatever reason, he didn't seem to notice it himself. None of the others did. It astounded her how oblivious they could be to what was playing out right in front of them. And yet, she was thankful for that total lack of awareness. It gave her options. She would continue with her previous plan, convincing the captain to establish communications with the _Kim_ once the two ships were alone. Still, something gnawed at her. If any man aboard realized what was actually going on and informed Haupt, would he still have any interest in talking? The fact that she didn't know the answer chilled her.

"You must have _some_ idea," he urged.

"If you'll think back for a moment, Sir, you'll remember that I've been here on the _Ron_ since **before** the _Monique_ was transferred to our area of operations," she reminded him. "There isn't anything I've seen that you haven't."

"I suppose you're right," the captain admitted.

"We're slowing, Captain," Lt. Propriov informed them. "We should prepare to disembark."

"Thank you, Mr. Propriov," he said. "You know, I never thought I'd see the day I'd be looking forward to a mission. Sure people are trying to kill us, but at least they're up front about it."

OOOOO**whoosh**OOOOO

"_All right, guys, you're in a field about 200 yards away from Drakken's Lair," Wade explained over the vehicle's radio, the Kimmunicators being less than reliable in their current location. "You can surface without anyone spotting you." _

_Nodding, their driver pulled a lever and the craft angled upwards, parts whirring and grinding until, finally, they were out in open the open air. The outer hatch opened, scattering bits of rock and soil. Kim walked to the exit and turned with a smile._

"_Thanks for the ride, Dexter," she said sweetly. _

"_Oh, it is nothing," the redheaded boy assured her, blushing slightly as he adjusted his glasses with a gloved hand. "Especially considering the… assistance you provided at last year's science fair."_

"_Just glad I could help," she said, modestly. "But, the next time you want to simulate a volcanic eruption, you should probably just use baking soda just like the other kids and leave the magma under the Earth's crust, where it belongs."_

"_Oooh! What does this button do?"_

"_DEE DEE!" the boy shouted, furiously. "GET OUT OF MY LABORATORY!"_

"_Huh?" said Ron, backing away from shiny red temptation. "Who you calling Dee Dee?"_

"_Oh, my apologies, heh heh," mumbled the boy genius. "Force of habit."_

"_Okaaay," Ron decided to start slowly backing out of the giant subterranean craft. "Well, no harm done, buddy. You take care now. __**Whoa – oof**__!" _

_He found himself flat on his back. Well, it would've been flat, if not for all the upturned dirt and painfully sharp rocks that were currently digging into his spine. _

"_Might want to watch your step next time, 'Dee Dee'," said Kim, bending over his pained, prostrate form. She gave him a hand up as the vehicle roared to live again, the claw-like scoops in front tearing into the dirt until the craft disappeared back underground._

"_I'm telling you, KP, that kid's screwy," Ron said, once they were alone. "And I'm not just talking about calling me a girl's name, either. What kind of person builds a subterraneous vehicle in the shape of a giant mole?"_

"_Oh, please," said Kim, with her hand on her hip. "Like you __**wouldn't**__ build one that looked like a giant naked mole rat if you had the chance."_

"_That is __**so**__ not the same thing," he said, but she was already reaching for her Kimmunicator. "Which reminds me…"_

_Ron fished in his pocket for something decidedly lower tech. Rufus was still sleeping soundly, even after all the noise from the digger and the jolt from the fall. Gently, Ron tapped the hairless creature._

"_Hey, buddy," he coaxed. "Up and at 'em. C'mon. Rise and shine."_

_The mole rat cracked an eye open towards his human, then grunted and rolled over._

"_Hrrrrrn, five more minutes" came a mumbled squeak._

"_Uh-uh, no can do," Ron insisted. "Mission time. We gotta help Kim."_

_At that, the rodent's eyes shot open and he suddenly stood ramrod straight on the palm of Ron's hand. His paw came up in a picture perfect salute. Right before his eyes rolled back and he collapsed, snoring softly with his little feet kicking in the air. _

"_Looks like Rufus is on the 'reserve' list for this one, KP," Ron relented, tucking his small companion back into his cargo pocket._

"_With any luck, we won't even need him, and we can just drop him off with the Tweebs before our date," she said, and Ron nodded though he could have sworn her heard a slight whimper coming from his pants. "Go, Wade."_

"_I've got Drakken's security mapped out," he said clicking away at his keyboard. "He didn't even bother to upgrade it from the last time he used this lair. A little rough going to get around the surveillance cameras, but then it's a straight shot to the skylight on the roof."_

"_Oh, goody," griped Ron. "Roof entrance. My favorite. And why didn't we just avoid the "rough going" altogether and let that weird kid drop us off closer." _

"_Because even somebody as clueless as Drakken would notice a four-ton robot mole in his front yard." said Wade, dismissively. _

"_But couldn't we have just tunneled underneath and come up in the basement?" _

_Kim and Wade stared at him, and then Kim stared at Wade who shrugged innocently. With a slight huff, Kim started off in the direction of Drakken's lair._

"_You know, maybe that idea would've been better received if I'd brought it up while we were still __**inside**__ the four-ton robot mole," he said, as he jogged to catch up._

_Thirty yards of swamp, fifty feet of thorny bushes, and one embarrassing grapple incident later, the two teens found themselves on the roof. With the Kimmunicator pointed at a juncture of wires, Wade was able to remotely disable the alarm connected to the skylight._

"_There, all ready for you to go in," he said, cheerfully. "You know, I still can't figure out why Drakken doesn't just board this thing up."_

"_Maybe it's part of the ambience. They say natural light really opens up a room," Ron answered thoughtfully as he stared into the heart of the mad doctor's lair._

OOOOO**whoosh**OOOOO

"What are we looking at, Mr. Propriov?" asked Capt. Haupt. "How many enemy vessels?"

"Nine, not including the _Drakken_, Sir," the navigator replied. "No _Henchman_-class craft, thank God, just your standard bargain-basement red-clad clunkers. No sign of the _Shego_ yet, Captain."

"Give it time, she'll show. What's the _Drakken_ up to?"

Lt. Propriov consulted his instruments. Twice. On the third time, he had to acknowledge that it was really happening.

"The _Drakken _is… prancing, Sir."

"What was that?" the captain asked, thinking he'd heard wrong. "The _Drakken_ is doing what?"

"Prancing," repeated Propriov. "I… I just can't think of anything else to call it, Sir. He's prancing."

OOOOO**whoosh**OOOOO

_Dr. Drakken, infamous super-villain and self-proclaimed evil genius, leapt into the air as high as he could and landed on the pointed toe of his petite black boot, arms wide open as if to offer the whole world a nice, warm hug. _

"_My brilliantly diabolical plan is absolutely __**perfect**__," he shouted to the rafters. "No one can stop me. __**No one**__!"_

_He stopped and lifted a gloved hand to a blue-tinted ear. Nothing. The lair was in total silence. Beaming, he took another running jump. This time, when he landed, he twirled in place for a few seconds with his fingertips barely touching over his head. _

"_The time for world conquest is at hand! I shall be __**supreme ruler **__of the __**world**__, and there's nothing __**anyone**__ can do about it!"_

_Again, he put his hand to his ear, still smiling like a kid in a candy store. And again there was no response. He threw his head back and let out a maniacal laugh. At least it started out maniacal before he broke down into a fit of giggles._

"_Oh, Shego, isn't it wonderful?" he yelled down the hall. _

"_You could call it that," she called back. "The word I'd use sounds a lot more like 'annoying,' but, hey, that's just me."_

"_I'm so deliciously devious I can't even stand it!" he practically squealed, paying his sardonic sidekick no real attention. _

"_Neither can I, Doc," grumbled Shego, wishing her room in this lair had been soundproofed. "Neither can I." _

"_It's the crime of the millennia!" he continued. "And the best part is that Kim Possible will be none the wiser until it's too late. Ah, don't you see, Shego? I could never get away with saying things like that if my plan wasn't working flawlessly."_

"_**That's**__ what you're basing your success on?" she shouted. "The fact that Princess isn't interrupting your gloating?"_

"_Er… no," he said, unconvincingly. "That's just a… fringe benefit! Yes, that's it. I'm free to revel in my own magnificent wickedness all I want without that insufferable do-gooder and her buffoon to spoil it."_

"_Not that I care or anything, but don't you think you might be tempting fate just a little? I'll admit the 'stealing without stealing' plan was good enough to make me think you stole the idea from somebody a lot more competent, like a nine-year-old or something. There's still a chance her little Nerdlinger could figure out what you're up to."_

"_Nonsense, Shego. That would be totally, and without a doubt, __**impossible**__."_

"_Okay, __**now**__ you're pushing it," Shego groused as Drakken cackled at his own pun. _

"_Tell me about it," said second feminine voice, catching him in mid-laugh. "I mean how could I ignore a cue like that? I was even going to let him go on another few minutes. He looked like he was having so much fun, I hated to ruin it for him right away. I have to admit, Drakken, that happy little dance you were doing was just __**precious**__."_

_His eyes shot up to a high ledge where his teenaged nemesis stood, mocking him with her self-righteous smirk. He looked to her right, where her buffoon of a sidekick was busy fiddling with one of their communication devices._

"_Too true, KP, too true," he said, happily. "Definitely one of those rare precious moments. Which is why I decided I'd break out the old Kimmunicator and film the whole thing for posterity. Did you get it, Wade?"_

"_Oh, I got it alright," the boy said over the little gadget's surprisingly loud speaker. "And I sent copies to all the major news outlets and to every villain in Kim's rouge's gallery. And… there. I just posted it on MyTube. It's already got more hits than that video of the monkey scratching its butt and falling out of the tree."_

"_Oh yeah! Booyah!" said Ron, doing his own happy little dance. "Take that, you stupid monkey!"_

"_NNNnnnng!" grunted Drakken, already imagining the taunts he'd be forced to endure at the next super villain's convention. "__**GET THEM**__!" _

OOOOO**whoosh**OOOOO

"**ATTENTION ALL DECKS, BATTLE STATIONS. REPEAT, BATTLE STATIONS.**"

"Alright, men," Haupt encouraged. "Just another day at the office. You all know what to do. Mr. Frege, have you had enough time to analyze the combat zone?"

"Yes, Capatin," droned Frege. "I was able to formulate our most effective course of action. The power cables, located to our immediate left, must be disengaged from the wall so that we may descend to the lower level. We will release the cable at the point of greatest acceleration and use our momentum to disable the three enemy vessels clustered in the southeast quadrant.

"From there, we will right ourselves and concentrate of the detachment of five ships in the lower half of the northeast quadrant. By then, they will have engaged their offensive countermeasures. I recommend keeping out of range by running up the eastern wall approximately 2.4 meters before kicking off into a side tuck roll and landing in their directily midst before executing a inverted capoeira spinning two-leg sweep, rendering them inoperative.

"The remaining fighter is in a defensive position near a large, unopened container. I speculate the stolen components are located inside. We can disorient the patrol ship with a series of handsprings, bringing his guard down so that we may vault over his head, onto the crate, and use our advantage of higher ground to attack the nerve junction at the base of his neck with a driving elbow strike.

"I have taken the liberty of uploading the flight plan into Lieutenant Propriov's station."

"And _I_ have taken the liberty of scrapping it," the navigator answered, smugly. "But not before I showed it to the meathead."

Propriov gestured to the helmsman beside him, who was a few shades paler and shaking like a leaf. He was muttering to quietly to himself over and over.

"C-can't do it. Can't do it. Too hard. Can't… can't do the scary, too-hard things. Just can't."

"Mr. Propriov does have a point, Frege," the captain said, gently. "Maybe you modify it a little, so it's a bit more… Lt. Commander Luloni's speed?"

"Very well, Captain," said Frege, a slight hesitation beforehand the only indication of any disappointment. He returned to his station and, a few moments of activity that was an oddly both furious and totally bland, he turned. "I have sent a revised strategy. Is this acceptable?"

The navigator looked down, and Luloni craned his neck to see.

"Yeah, that'll work," said Propriov. "What do you think, meathead?"

"This," the helmsman replied happily, "I can do."

OOOOO**whoosh**OOOOO

_Kim's grapple gun fired and she swung down onto the lair's main floor. Instinctively, Ron reached for his but was left grasping at the empty space. He frowned at the recent memory of his first attempt at getting up to the roof. Now that his grappler was dangling from the landing gear of a low-flying Cessna… don't ask… he had to find some other way to get down._

_Looking around, he noticed a few loose power cables to his left. He reached for one and gave it a sharp tug. Nothing. He pulled again, a little harder. It gave way a little, but it was still attached. Determined, he gripped it with both hands and yanked as hard as he could until he heard the satisfying snap. The immediate falling sensation afterwards told him he'd leaned back too far on that last pull. _

_In true Ron Stoppable fashion, he screamed and flailed wildly as he fell four stories upside-down, forgetting completely about the cable he'd worked so hard to free. Fortunately, the cable didn't forget about him, tangling around his legs and wrapping itself tightly around his ankles. In his whole life, Ron had never been happier to see something around his ankles. He swung in a huge arc towards the main floor, still screaming and flailing. The three red-suited lackeys turned to see a howling blur of yellow, black, and grey barreling right at them at ridiculous speeds. He got one with an outstretched boot to the temple and another with a wicked palm to the bridge of the nose, the third getting hit dead on by 148lbs. of accelerated sidekick. _

_Ron barely slowed down on his path through the lair, heading straight for another mass of red. These guys had been quick enough to get out their TASER sticks. He let out another scream when the fickle cord decided to unwrap. And unwrap it did, sending him spinning straight for them, still upside-down. One by one, the goons caught a heavy boot in the face from the whirling, and still screaming, Ron. The rotation finally stopped leaving a very dizzy young man in a wobbly handstand. _

_Absentmindedly, he wondered why there was a blurry, red and purple figure jumping around on the ceiling dodging flashes of bright yellow light. Turning, with some difficulty, he saw a crate near some big computer consoles. Actually, he saw two of them, but the fact that they were spinning and overlapping each other at random made him think there was probably just one. Just like there was probably only one big red bad guy running at him with a cattle prod. The thug hesitated for a second when he saw the intruders feet were where his head should have been, then decided to was better to prod first and question later. He thrust the weapon and Ron instinctively opened his legs, the attack hitting nothing but air. The same instinct closed his legs tightly around the big man's arm. With a snarl, he tried to jerk his limb free, but he only managed to swing the boy around in wide arcs. Frustrated, he planted a foot on Ron's chest used every ounce of muscle to pull. He held on valiantly for a few second before the arm was ripped loose, sending the business end of the TASER stick right into the thug's forehead. _

_Shakily, Ron climbed to his feet and tried to ignore the smell of ions and burnt hair. He crouched to look at the shipping label on the box in front of him. "Dr. Andrew Lipsky D.M.S" read in bold print._

"_Booyah! KP, I found the stolen stuff!"_

"_The Buffon! My __**components**__!" Drakken shrieked, looking up from his laser turret's controls. "__**SHEGO**__!"_

_Taking advantage of Ron's distraction yet again, Kim leapt from one console to the next until she was directly behind the turret and disconnected the main power cable. The now useless weapon sputtered an slumped as the teen heroine turned, ready for anything. Or so she thought. _

"_Shego?" _

"_Hey there, Kimmie," answered the sultry voice of her longtime nemesis. "You like?"_

_The villainess stood in the arched doorway, giving Kim the same challenging smirk she'd seen so many times before. The difference here was that Shego wasn't wearing her usual green and black Team Go uniform. Instead, she was decked out in one of the most gorgeous dresses Kim had ever seen. It was a very dark shade of green, setting off both the fairness of her skin and the color of her eyes. Strapless, sleeveless unless you counted the long matching gloves that came up past her elbows, dangerously low cut, with a slit up one side that showed a fair amount of leg. The fit was perfect. The dress itself was a work of art._

"_Is that a… a…?" Kim hesitated, not daring to say it out loud._

"_A Coco Banana __**original**__?" Shego asked innocently, reading the girl's thoughts. "Would you hate me if I said yes? Oh, please say you would, 'cause that's __**exactly**__ what it is."_

"_Shego!" the frantic blue-skinned villain shouted, hopping up and down to get her attention. "The Buffoon is going after my components! Shouldn't you be __**stopping him**__?"_

"_Sorry, Dr. D," she said, not sounding the slightest bit sorry. "Not gonna happen."_

"_Not gonna…" Drakken's jaw dropped nearly to the floor. "But… but, my long-range graviton beam cannon…"_

"_Yeah, tough break," said Shego, shaking her head in pity. "And really not my problem. You said that, after I pulled off the 'crime of the millennia,' I'd get the full three-day weekend off. So, I'm going to be out dancing with throngs of obscenely attractive men, while you stay here getting your butt kicked six ways from Sunday by the Princess. Unless she wants to try and stop me…"_

"_Actually, it looks like tonight's your lucky night, Shego," Kim answered, evenly. "You're not the only one with something better to do. It just so happens that Ron and I have a date."_

"_A night out with Stoppable, huh?" said Shego, smirking. "Well, I can't blame you for jumping at the first mission you could to get out of __**that**__ nightmare."_

"_If you were planning on walking out of here without a fight, I suggest you watch what you say about the boyfriend," the redhead warned. _

"_Hey, no need to get your white cotton undies in a twist, Princess," she said, bringing up her hands to shield her. "I'm sure he's got a magical evening of bad Mexican food and clumsy groping all mapped out. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go spend a Friday night with people I __**like **__for a change."_

_With a parting smirk for Kim and a halfhearted wave for Drakken, the pale lady thief sauntered towards the main entrance of the lair. He stared as she walked away until he shook off the initial surprise and remembered he still had a plan for world domination on the line. Stepping back, he dramatically reached into his lab coat's pocket, taking out a small metal box with a single button._

"_You haven't won yet, Kim Possible," Drakken said defiantly. "I don't need my sidekick to deal with the likes of you. With a press of this button I will unleash your worst nightmare!"_

"_Any chance you could __**not**__ press it and just give up?" Kim asked sullenly. "Did you not just hear me say I had a date tonight?"_

"_Indeed you do my helpless foe. A date with your own destruction!" he said with a cruel laugh, then he brought his finger down on the button. Behind him a metal door slid open. _

"_That's it?" Kim asked, leaning to look around him. "__**One**__ synthodrone?"_

"_What?" Drakken turned to look. "Oh… that's right. Silly me, forgot restock the army of synthodrones, heh. Well, no matter. Snythodrones… er… drone, __**destroy**__ Kim Possible."_

"_If that's the way you want to play it," she muttered, dropping again into her Kung Fu stance. "But if I don't get out of here in the next half hour, I am __**so **__going to take it out of your hide."_

_The inhuman sack of chemicals rushed her, no fear in its goggled eyes. Kim was slightly surprised at the direct approach, especially considering there were no reinforcements, but that didn't stop her from reacting. Falling backwards, she grabbed at the drone's uniform/skin and thrust both legs up into its midsection, launching it high into the air. Kicking back up to her feet, she reached for her laser lipstick and sent a beam of red light lancing straight through the artificial body, blobs green syntho-goo flying everywhere. Including a space three feet away from the door. Which was exactly where Shego was standing now. _

_She stared down for a moment in utter disbelief. In a flash, she turned and sprinted straight at Kim and Dr. Drakken. Drakken immediately broke out into a toothy grin._

"_Shego, you came back!" he said giddily. "I knew you wouldn't let me- __**OOF**__"_

_The obstruction Drakken's body had presented hadn't even slowed her down. As she passed her, Kim could barely make out what Shego was saying._

"_Cold water cold water can't let the stain set cold water cold water" she was repeating as she ran like the devil himself was chasing her._

_Before Kim took the time to think about why Shego had just knocked her own boss unconscious, she turned to look for Ron, who hadn't said anything since he'd yelled to her about the stolen items. Now, she could see why. He had other things on his mind, namely the men in red suits that had regained consciousness and were currently surrounding him._

OOOOO**whoosh**OOOOO

"We're boxed in, Captain!" announced the navigator.

"I can see that, Mr. Propriov. But I have a feeling we won't be for long," Haupt replied, boldly.

"Yes, Sir," said Indlebe behind him, quickly entering in commands at his station. "Preparing to send out a distress beacon to the _Kim_."

"Belay that, Lieutenant," said the captain, glancing over his shoulder. "Doesn't any of this look familiar to you? To any of you?"

A few of them looked up at the view screen, trying to what Capt. Haupt could be getting at. A few more looked at the captain like he was nuts. Without warning, he rose from his chair and addressed them all.

"Men, we were in this exact same position only a few hours ago. Surrounded, thinking we were outgunned, outclassed. Well, here I stand before you and say that we can defeat this enemy. We have the power to take the fight to them! We will run and cower no longer! Now… **who's with me**?"

OOOOO**whoosh**OOOOO

_Ron could feel his breath slowing. His heart wasn't pounding nearly as hard. And he knew why. He'd already won one fight today. Won it? Heck, he'd barely even broken a sweat. And this was against someone who'd terrorized him since kindergarten. It was time for Ron Stoppable to prove that one bully wasn't any different from another. _

_One of the goons took a step forward into the circle, the short metal stick crackling with electricity. With a confident smirk, Ron put up his guard as well as he could remember from his training at the secret ninja academy. The two circled each other, neither unwilling to tip their hand first. _

_There was no trace of fear on Ron's face, and he could see that it was throwing the larger man off his game. That's why he finally panicked and struck first, swinging clumsily at Ron's head. Like he'd done a thousand times, the blond teen ducked under the attack but, this time, he came back with one of his own. His right hand shot out, catching the lackey in his overstuffed midsection and doubling him over. In the same fluid motion, he raised both hands high over his head, interlaced his fingers, and brought them down hard on the bent man's neck. He was already unconscious when he landed on the metal floor with a dull thud._

OOOOO**whoosh**OOOOO

The whole bridge broke out in a cheer when the larger ship came crashing down. Well, very nearly the whole bridge, anyway.

"Captain, I must advise against this course of action," the Science Officer said, evenly.

"Advise _against_ it?" the captain repeated skeptically. "I thought you, more than anyone would appreciate this. You've been saying we should step up our use of force ever since the first time we brought down the _Monkey Fist_, that we'd work more efficiently if we stopped retreating all the time. Well, what happened against the _Conrad_ today showed me how much I've underestimated this ship. You saw what we did to him. You saw what we did, just now, with that other ship."

"Yes, Captain, I am well aware of our recent victories but I am still required to inform you when your actions violate the most basic of logical thinking."

"And what about fighting back is illogical?" Haupt asked aggressively. "What about this situation is any different from the fight that we won against the _Conrad_?"

"During our battle with the _Conrad_, we were surrounded by ships from the _Mad Dog_ Fleet. It is possible those ships might have attacked had we attempted to retreat. The fleet currently surrounding us intends to attack us regardless of our actions."

"Oh…" the captain said, softly.

OOOOO**whoosh**OOOOO

_Ron smiled nervously as seven crackling TASERs were leveled at his throat. _

"_Any chance you guys feel like lining up and fighting me one at a time?" he asked, his voice shaking. "Yeah, didn't think so. __**KP**__!"_

"_Okay boys…" a voice cut in behind them, sounding sharp as a razor. "Playtime's over. Drakken's out cold, Shego's gone AWOL, and your chances of beating me are exactly zero. Now, I've got places to be so, unless you want to find out where __**my**__ 16 styles of Kung Fu can shove __**your**__ 7 active cattle prods before you have time to even __**think**__ about throwing a punch, I suggest you put your hands up. Now."_

_She was answered by a clatter of their weapons hitting the floor as a forest of raised arms sprung up in front of her. She closed her eyes and sighed as she massaged the bridge of her nose._

"_Put your hands down, Ron," she said, exasperated. _

"_Oh, heh…right. Sorry KP." He quickly brought them back to his sides and pushed his way out of the ring of bodies to stand beside her. "I don't think you realize just how powerful the 'scary voice' is. In fact, I'd rank it just behind the puppy-dog pout in terms of mind crushing effectiveness."_

"_Just come on and help me lift the crate so we can get out of--"_

"_**KIMBERLY ANN POSSIBLE**__!"_

_Kim stopped mid-sentence. She could count on one hand the number of times she'd heard her full name used with such terrible fury. This time, like the others, it filled her with something reserved for driving tests and talent shows, something that was usually left behind the moment she put herself in mission mode. Fear. Slowly, she turned to face the source._

_The figure that stood in the doorway radiated the purest hatred and rage. One step closer. Then another. With each step, the teenage heroine could feel the knot of fear twisting and growing in her chest. By the time both sets of emerald eyes were barely a foot apart, Kim found herself totally frozen in place, staring into a blaze of hellfire that had nothing to do with Meteor powers. Ron was staring, too, but for an entirely different reason._

_As best as he could figure, Shego had decided that the best way to deal with the snytho-goo that had landed on her dress was to immediately soak it in cold water to prevent the stain from setting. He based his theory on four main pieces of evidence. _

_Exhibit A: He could tell that she'd made the decision to soak her dress due to the obvious fact that she was no longer wearing it. _

_Exhibit B: The fact that she'd soaked the dress immediately was evidenced by the fact that she hadn't taken the time to put on anything else, leaving her in the matched set of dark green panties and strapless bra she was currently wearing. _

_Exhibits C & D: He knew that she'd used cold water to prevent the stain from setting because, in her rush to save the dress, she'd managed to accidentally douse herself with said cold water, resulting in the final two pieces of evidence that were now trying to poke their way through the cups of her bra. _

OOOOO**whoosh**OOOOO

"Indlebe, contact Akshan now! **Hurry**!" Haupt shouted desperately.

The Communications Officer had barely heard the captain, but that was because he'd started establishing the connection. Counselor Sofia looked on with confused fascination until she noticed that no one else was moving.

"Captain, don't you think we should be doing something?" she asked, almost hesitant to bother him when he was so anxious. "Getting ready to fight or run or… just do something?"

"Sofia, this is a matter of life and _death_," he said hurriedly. "I don't expect you to understand, but I do expect you not to interfere. Damn it, Lieutenant! Where the hell is Akshan?"

"Patching him through now, Sir!" answered Indlebe. "You can use the COM system at your station."

Almost violently, the captain slammed his fist down on the COM button. His face hovered inches away from the receiver, something he knew was unnecessary considering the device could pick up his voice from several feet away. Still, he was taking no chances with the lives of every man aboard.

"Attention eyeballs, this is the brain! Mayday! Mayday! Mayday! We have female craft with her shields down to _absolute minimum_ closing from the south. Do not engage! Repeat: **Do **_**NOT**_** engage**! The _Kim_ is inches off our port side and she's been acting funny all day. We are at DEFCON 3. I say again: two big, perky honkers are closing!"

The captain impatiently snapped his fingers at the navigator who immediately sent the captain the _Shego_'s recently acquired schematic information.

"Chest size: three niner," Haupt continued. "Cup size: Delta, Delta… _Delta_? How long has she been hiding all… er, never mind. Do **not** engage those boobs!"

Haupt waited for a tense moment. He was about to try again when another voice came over the COM.

"Yeah, _**KSSSSSHH**_ this is _**KSSSSSHH**_ Lt. Commander Beauregard Akshan, _**KSSSSSHH**_," the voice said, sounding unusually clear between the intermittent "static."

"Sorry, _**KSSSSSHH**_ you're breaking up a little bit there, Captain, _**KSSSSHH**_. Didn't quite get that last message _**KSSSSSHH**_ I took a quick look around and _**KSSSSSSH**_ looks like we got a couple of boobs _**KSSSSSHH**_ coming in from the south, here. We're gonna bank left _**KSSSSSHH**_ and swoop in for a closer look at the situation _**KSSSSSHH**_. Akshan out… _**KSSSSSSSSHH**_.

OOOOO**whoosh**OOOOO

_So, in the interest of gathering more information, Ron may have… glanced at them. Her pale skin was completely flawless and even sported some leftover droplets from when she'd carelessly splashed herself a little while before. Those tiny drops were leisurely winding their way down the curved slope on their way to their final destination in that lacy green cloth. He noticed the droplets were starting to fall faster when her lungs filled, and to say that this sudden heave in her chest was a wee bit distracting would be like saying that forcing a small child to share a bunk with a rabid primate for three months was a wee bit of poor planning._

"_Do you have any idea what it took to get me that dress?" she growled at the younger woman. "People were __**hurt. **__**Good**__ people! One man lost __**thee toes**__, for God's sake! Sure, he may never dance at his daughter's wedding, but that was okay because I had my dress. And __**you**__! You wouldn't let me have that one bit of happiness, __**would you**__? No, 'Shego's evil. Shego doesn't get to be happy.' I swear, Possible, I will make you hurt for this. That dress was the single most __**beautiful**__ thing in my life! You're gonna know exactly what it feels like to have the thing in this world that you love the most __**tainted**__ right in front of your eyes."_

_At those words, Kim felt her hand reaching out for Ron's. She hadn't meant to do it, hadn't even thought about it, but it felt like the right thing to do. Only, Ron wasn't squeezing her hand. In fact, he hadn't reacted at all. Confused, she looked over at his face and saw the mystified expression in his eyes. And then she saw where those eyes were pointed. Before she could react, there was a low growl in front of them._

"_Oh, so you're not even gonna look at me when I'm talking to you? Not… GONNA… __**HAPPEN**__!"_

_There was a flash of green followed by a very bright light, which was followed by a few hours of total darkness. _

_Ron woke up with an ache in his shoulders and his wrists. He noticed that he wasn't really sitting or standing, it was more like he was dangling with his feet on the floor and his knees a few inches off the ground. Weakly, he stood up and heard the clinking of the shackles on his wrist. Standing, his hands were suspended slightly higher than his ears, not quite giving his complaining muscles that much of a break. Looking around, he saw a depressingly familiar dungeon. It had obviously been neglected, even by dungeon standards. A few feet away, Rufus slept soundly in a padlocked cage about the size of a shoebox. To his right, his girlfriend was standing there looking distant. _

_Quickly, he saw two things. One, she was a bit dirty and her mission clothes were tattered and lightly singed, much the same as his, but she didn't look like she was injured. Two, she wasn't distant in her usual "Shut up, Ron, I need to figure out a way to get us out of here" sort of way. She just seemed to be a million miles away. Gathering his courage, he thought he'd try to get her to talk to him._

"_You okay, KP? You're not hurt or anything, are you?"_

"_I'm fine," she said dully. _

"_How long have I been out?" he asked, hoping for more than a two word answer._

"_Not sure."_

"_How long have you been awake?"_

"_A few minutes," said Kim, a third word giving Ron a slight glimmer of hope._

"_So… have you figured out a way to get us out of here?"_

_For a long time, she didn't say anything, and she hadn't looked at him once since he'd regained consciousness. He was right about to try to say something funny in hopes of lightening the mood when she turned and looked him dead in the face. _

"_Were you looking at Shego's breasts?" she asked._

OOOOO**whoosh**OOOOO

**VVWOOO VVWOOO VVWOOO VVWOOO VVWOOO **

"**COUNTDOWN TO TOTAL ANNIHILATION, 3 MINUTES AND COUNTING!"**

**VVWOOO VVWOOO VVWOOO VVWOOO VVWOOO **

OOOOO**whoosh**OOOOO

"_Was I… was… what?" he managed to stammer as she stared at him blankly._

"_It's a simple question, Ron. Were you looking at Shego's breasts?"_

"_Was I looking at Shego's buh… brrrr… b- breasss… um… No?"_

"_It's okay, you can be honest," she said, no more emotion in her voice than before. "You don't have to lie."_

_Ron couldn't believe he'd thought she was giving him a blank look. Her eyes looked like they were about to explode out of her head from all the emotions she was holding back. There was disappointment, doubt, despair and… anger doesn't begin with 'd' but there was enough of it that he still added it to the list. _

"_I won't be mad," she said._

OOOOO**whoosh**OOOOO

**VVWOOO VVWOOO VVWOOO VVWOOO VVWOOO **

"**COUNTDOWN TO TOTAL ANNIHILATION, 2 MINUTES AND COUNTING!"**

**VVWOOO VVWOOO VVWOOO VVWOOO VVWOOO **

"Alright," Haupt said, immediately. "Nobody be honest! I've seen this before, we're being lured into an ambush!"

There was a pounding on the blast doors behind them.

"What in God's name--" was all the captain managed to say before they shot open, revealing four burly men wearing chipped body armor and matching scowls.

The meanest looking one stepped forward and grabbed Haupt by his uniform, as he gestured for one of his men to take Indlebe's station at Communications.

"Look here, Captain," the one holding him snarled in his face. "We've had enough of this, we're going in!"

"Where the hell did _you_ come from?" Haupt shouted in confusion.

"The **spine**!" he answered gruffly. "Now get out of our way."

OOOOO**whoosh**OOOOO

_For some reason, Ron felt a surge of confidence building in him. He stood a little straighter and puffed out his chest a little._

"_Why would you automatically assume I'd lie about something like that?" he asked incredulously. "And if you want me to be totally honest here, even if I did happen to look just a little bit, Shego waltzing out into the middle of the lair in her skivvies is __**not my fault**__. Wade spent a good twenty minutes telling us what to expect on this mission. I never heard him say __**once**__ that it was gonna be shirts versus skins. No, no, Rondo did __**not**__ go to the boobs. The boobs came to the Rondo."_

_The look she sent him could've bored a hole straight through to China._

OOOOO**whoosh**OOOOO

**VVWOOO VVWOOO VVWOOO VVWOOO VVWOOO **

"**COUNTDOWN TO TOTAL ANNIHILATION, 1 MINUTE AND COUNTING!"**

**VVWOOO VVWOOO VVWOOO VVWOOO VVWOOO **

The battle-hardened veterans of the spinal columns opened their mouths and, together as one, screeched like ten-year-old girls. Two of them bolted for the door, with a third following after throwing Lieutenant Indlebe roughly back into the seat of his station. The leader released Capt. Haupt, even going so far as to smooth out the creases on the officer's uniform. He then made a beeline for the door, but turned before he left.

"Sorry about that," he said, his voice at least five octaves higher. "Best of luck!"

Then he ran like a scared bunny.

OOOOO**whoosh**OOOOO

"_Do you like Shego's body?"_

OOOOO**whoosh**OOOOO

**VVWOOO VVWOOO VVWOOO VVWOOO VVWOOO **

"**COUNTDOWN TO TOTAL ANNIHILATION, 30 SECONDS AND COUNTING!"**

**VVWOOO VVWOOO VVWOOO VVWOOO VVWOOO **

OOOOO**whoosh**OOOOO

"_Do you think she's pretty? If you like looking at her so much, maybe you should be with her instead of me."_

OOOOO**whoosh**OOOOO

**VVWOOO VVWOOO VVWOOO VVWOOO VVWOOO **

"**COUNTDOWN TO TOTAL ANNIHILATION, INITIATING FINAL COUNTDOWN!"**

**VVWOOO VVWOOO VVWOOO VVWOOO VVWOOO **

**10...**

**9…**

**8…**

**7…**

**6…**

"Captain?" Indlebe shouted over the blaring alarms.

Nothing left. No other choice. As captain, he did what he thought he must.

"DEPLOY ALL BEGGING UNITS!"

OOOOO**whoosh**OOOOO

"_Kim, don't say that!" he pleaded. "I don't know what happened, all that swinging upside-down must've made me all loopy, I took a bite of mystery meat at lunch, and I… I'm… I'm __**wrong**__! Yes! I'm wrong, because… you know why I'm wrong? Because I'm always wrong! Because I am slime. I'm slime, I'm __**lower**__ than slime. If there's a special breed of slime that only forms at the bottom of Lake Wannaweep after Gill with two 'L's has bad Chinese takeout, that slime is better than me. Compared to you. Forgive me?"_

OOOOO**whoosh**OOOOO

**DESTRUCTION SEQUENCE SUSPENDED…**

OOOOO**whoosh**OOOOO

"_And, uh… Oh! And your boobs are __**much**__ nicer than Shego's."_

OOOOO**whoosh**OOOOO

**RESUMING DESTRUCTION SEQUENCE **

**5…**

**4…**

**3…**

OOOOO**whoosh**OOOOO

"_And, by that, I mean that you're the most beautiful, amazing gi…er… woman, that I've ever met and will ever meet and everything about you is wonderful, which would include your boo…errrreasts… breasts. Is what I meant to say, definitely."_

OOOOO**whoosh**OOOOO

**DESTRUCTION SEQUENCE… TERMINATED**

**HAVE A NICE DAY**

OOOOO**whoosh**OOOOO

"_It's okay, Ron," said Kim, warmth finding its way back into her voice. "You don't have to beat yourself up like that. You're a guy. Guys always look."_

"_Yes, guy! I am a guy. Definite guy-ness here," he agreed wholeheartedly._

"_Besides," she added, playfully. "If this were a beauty pageant, it looks like you already know who you'd be voting for."_

_Ron was about make a moderately bad joke about sashes when the heavy iron door across the room was flung open, letting in a shaft of light that made them squint. Looking down at the floor, the freckled blond noticed that the owner of the long shadow was showing off a set of very dangerous curves. _

"_Don't be too sure about that, Princess," Shego said with a smirk. _

_Unhurriedly, she crossed the room, hips swaying with every step. Not a stitch of clothing over her lacy lingerie. The second she was within arm's reach of her target her arms… well, they reached for her target, sliding around his neck to occupy a spot that had long since been reserved "girlfriend only territory" by Kim. _

"_After all," the sultry villainess purred just loud enough for both of them to hear. "If he's supposed to be the judge, shouldn't he get a really __good look at **all** the contestants before he makes a decision?"_

_Without another word, she threw her head back which heaved her chest up while her hands angled Ron's head down. Ron found himself staring at the exact same spot he'd been drawn to, earlier. Only, this time, it was an extreme close up. In a flash of brilliance, he jammed his eyes shut. Kim, who'd been watching with absolute dread, smiled proudly at her BF. _

"_Looks like Ron's already seen all he wants to see of you," she said brazenly. "Too bad. Better luck next time, Miss Congeniality."_

_Shego didn't let the cheerleader's words throw her off her game. In one move, she closed what little distance there was between her hips and Ron's and worked a shapely leg around his thigh to hold him in place._

"_Oh, there's more than one way for Ronnie to inspect the merchandise," she said, with a smile and a wink for Kim._

_Ron struggled valiantly before he realized that any movement he made only created friction in an area… let's just say that friction was a bad idea for that spot right then, and it was only getting worse. No matter what happened, he promised himself he wouldn't open his eyes. Eventually she'd just get bored and go away, right? Of course she would. It was then that Ron started to wonder why Shego was taking a big tuft of his hair in each hand. He stopped wondering right about the time he felt the first sharp tug straight down._

OOOOO**whoosh**OOOOO

Deep, within the darkest bowels of the ship… well, not really the bowels of the ship. Near the bowels. Deep, within the darkest area nearest to, but not inside, the bowels of the ship there was a stirring. A dormant power slept uneasily. A giant shrugged within his prison. And they knew. They knew the time had come. They could sense it with every fiber of their being. In the darkness, a lone creature slithered out to where his brethren dared not venture. He did not fear death. He feared nothing now. A grin spread across his deathly pale face, revealing the rows of gleaming fangs. A dry laugh escaped like a cough from his throat.

"**It hassss **_**moved**_," he roared into the embracing darkness.

The venomous voice echoed in the tunnels, sticking in the ears of the faithful.

_It has moved…_

_It has moved_

OOOOO**whoosh**OOOOO

* * *

**This chapter is dedicated to comedian**

**Richard Jeni**

**Born: Richard John Colangelo **

**April 14, 1957 – March 10, 2007**

* * *

**Author's Notes**: You got through it. I'm impressed. For a second there, I didn't think I'd finish it. Of course, me not finishing would've made reading this totally impossible, so apparently I did. I realize, in retrospect, that this probably would have done better divided into two chapters. Possibly three. My reason for not doing it? "Turnabout Intruders" was the last dang episode of the Star Trek Original Series. I didn't have anything else to call any new chapters. As for why I didn't divide it into part 1, part 2, part 3, etc… Okay, I don't have a good excuse for that one. 

You may be wondering why I dedicated this chapter to the late Richard Jeni. I did so because the last scene in the dungeon, as combined with certain elements in the lair, was based almost fully on a bit created by Jeni called "PMS and red wine." You can find the routine at Comedy Central's Motherload and on YouTube, and it's really worth a look if you haven't seen it yet. This scene, this implementation of Richard Jeni's material, is one of the main reasons I did this story in the first place. He was an excellent comedian, and his death left an impact on me. Damn, that's depressing for a humor story. On to the reviews.

Thank you very much, yet again, for all the reviews so far. Special recognition for reviewers of the last chapter are as follows: **CajunBear73** (Hey, I was raised by television and nothing there wrong me with is), **DuffKilliganFan** (Preach it, brother! Give up-ah! Give in-ah! You ain't never gonna win! Hallelujah!) **Mr. Wizard** (Uncontested winner of my obscure pig reference competition) **spectre666** (I don't think the Ronman would appreciate idle discussion about Kim's heated areas), and **wopr** (You're very welcome, but I don't do it for love… I do it for cash. Kidding)

Any and all reviews will receive a response. You take up your time, it's only right I give you some of mine.

You may have noticed there's no "to be continued in…" for this chapter.

Kooky, huh?

Blessed be,  
-Brother Bludgeon

_Kim Possible_ created by Mark McCorkle and Robert Schooley.  
_Star Trek_ created by Gene Roddenberry  
_PMS and Red Wine_ written and performed by Richard Jeni


	7. Deleted Scenes & Arriving Attractions

**SPECIAL FEATURES**

**Deleted/Extended Scenes**

**To view with creator commentary, please go to the next chapter…**

**You have chosen to view the Deleted Scenes without commentary. **

* * *

"Alternate Opening"

"Captain's log, stardate 7032.3" a casual baritone voice spoke into his station's built-in recording device. "I find myself in a rare, quiet moment aboard this ship. I'd like to take this time to pause and reflect, something I'd been hoping to do much earlier, in light of this vessel's recent anniversary. Eighteen years… my God, has it really been that long?

"Eighteen years and four days ago, this ship was launched into active duty. Not the fastest ship, or the best armed, and yet with a service record some would give anything for. In no way the prettiest, but with an… undeniable charm, a sort of magnetic attraction that pulls you in at first glance. I'm not the first man to fill this seat. I only hope, when the time comes, I can step down as gracefully as my predecessors…"

All around him, men in brightly colored sweaters looked down at their various consoles, making a tiny adjustment to one of a dozen flashing knobs or dials. If there was nothing to fiddle with, he'd just have to sit quietly and wait.

"I'm sure I could say the same for any of my crew. They've lived and loved and bled for this ship, I couldn't have asked for better comrades on my journey. . I'd like to think, despite all our differences, we've come to form a kind of family here. Even Mr. Frege, who started out as Science Officer, later becoming my trusty First Officer, how far the two of us have come…"

A few paces to the captain's right, Lieutenant Commander Frege tried keep busy running systems diagnostics, knowing in advance that all systems were functioning within normal limits. Mr. Frege was not clairvoyant, nor did he believe such things existed. Logic dictated that running the exact same checks he'd been running all morning had a ninety-nine point two five nine percent chance of yielding predictable results. It was a simple, repetitive task, but sometimes he felt like it was the only thing that kept the veins on his scalp from bursting whenever the captain went off on one of his soliloquies.

"The Littlest Anti-Semite"

"_Don't lie to me, Stoppable," an angry Conrad warned. "I know you got something for us."_

"_Yeah, we __**know**__ you got something, Jew boy!" Steve piped up, eagerly. "Don't you guys always keep little bags of Jew gold around your necks or something?"_

_For a second, time stood still. No one made a sound, not even to breathe. Almost involuntarily, the bullies seemed to edge themselves away from their diminutive cohort, who now looked up at them with slight confusion. _

"_Oh, whoa whoa! Time out!" shouted Vinnie, making a "T" sign with his hands. "Li'l Steve. Anti-Semitism. __**Not**__ cool. We don't do that. Ever. If a kid is fat, go ahead call him 'fattie.' If a kid's smarter than you and he dresses bad, call him a 'nerd' and knock his books on the floor. If a kid has a last name that even __**sounds**__ like 'butt,' heck, go crazy. Not this. __**Never**__ this. This doesn't happen again. Are we clear?"_

"_Yeah, we're clear," answered Steve, shamefacedly scuffing his shoe against the floor. "Sorry, Stoppable."_

"_Dude, Stoppable, I'm really sorry about this," added Junior, before turning to mutter in Steve's direction. "See, __**this**__ is why we don't let him talk for himself! Nazi midget bastard." _

"_Junior!" said Vinnie, whipping his head around to face him. "Man, that is not helping. The correct term is 'little person.' Two wrongs, Man. Two wrongs."_

"_Okay, okay… sorry, Li'l Steve," he responded reluctantly, before adding under his breath. "Little _**nazi**_ person."_

"_Look, Stoppable, this is going downhill fast," Vinnie reasoned. "Just give us the money, man. We don't look bad, you don't look any worse than you did all those other times, and you just stay out of D-Hall 'til you graduate. Everybody wins."_

"_You really expect me to give you anything after… that?" said Ron, anger slipping into his voice. _

"_I'm not saying it wasn't out of line. It was. And it ain't happening again, I can promise you that. This ain't about that. This is D-Hall. We __**own**__ D-Hall. We let you walk out, we don't own D-Hall anymore. Steve doesn't think before he talks. He said he was sorry. Just make it easy on yourself and give us the money, okay?"_

"_And if I don't?" Sensing his cue, Conrad filled the gap that had formed between them and brought his oversized fist in front of Ron's face._

"_Oh, right," he said, nervously._

"Flippy Pages"

"_Ronnie?" Mrs. Stoppable shouted from the living room, noticing the television was on but no one was watching. "What are you doing?"_

"_Playing 'flippy pages,' Mommy!" a four-year-old Ron Stoppable called out from his father's home office. _

_She found her son sitting in her husband's leather desk chair with a hardback book in his lap that looked about twice as thick as his arm. "Flippy pages" was a game little Ronnie had invented at age three. He would take any book he could get his hands on, the thicker the better, and set it in his lap. Then, he would tilt the book on its side and, using his thumb to keep them all from going at once, he would watch the pages as they fell like it was some giant flip book. _

"_Ronnie, how many times have I told you not to play 'flippy pages' with Mommy and Daddy's books?" she asked, gently lifting the book and putting it back where he'd taken it from the bookshelf that served as Mr. and Mrs. Stoppable's personal library. _

_She took a quick glance at the book's spine and saw that it was one of her textbooks she'd kept from college, "A History of Western Philosophy." _

"_Why don't you go and watch some TV?" she asked hopefully._

"_I tried, but it was too boring," said Ronnie, sadly. "Can I play 'flippy pages' some more, __**please**__?" _

_He looked past her to the shelf, then back up into her eyes, pleading. With a sigh, she reached down and picked her son up, carrying him back into the living room to set him back down in front of the TV. _

"_It's not nice to play with other people's things without asking," she said sternly. "I'd be more willing to let you play if you'd just use your own books."_

"_But I already know all the stuff in all my books," he whined. "I want to play with yours!"_

_Neither she nor her husband could understand what that was all about. He would play with a book for a few minutes, and then never pick it up again. They'd tried to get him to go back to his own books but he'd always say he'd played with it already. Once they'd even tried to fool him by putting a new cover on an old book, but somehow he saw right through it. Not wanting to go through all of this again, she decided to change her tactics. _

"_Sweetie, you know that little red-haired girl from your class you told your father and me about?" _

"_Yeah!" he said, happily. "Her name's Kim and she's fun and she's nice and she can jump really high and do flips and cartwheels and--"_

"_Yes, that's her," she said, cutting in. "Why don't I call her parents and have them bring her over this afternoon to play with you?"_

"_Really?" the little boy beamed. "Can she?"_

"_I'll call and find out, but you have to be good and watch your cartoons while you wait, okay?"_

_The freckled child seemed to think it over for half a second before nodding. His smile drooped a bit when he turned back to the spot in front of the TV. He looked back up at her, as if to ask if he really had to do it, but she didn't budge. With a tiny sigh, he walked over and plopped down. Satisfied, Mrs. Stoppable went to go find her address book to look up the number she'd gotten from Kim's mother last week on the kids' first day of Pre-Kindergarten. Back in the living room, her son sat cross-legged on the carpet, cradling his face in his hands as he watched the whimsically animated images amble across the screen. At one point, he lifted his head and looked to his left, not like he was staring off into space but as if there were someone very tall seated in the space next to him. After a moment, Ronnie looked back at the TV, scrunching his face in contemplation._

"_I don't know, Rufus," he said, finally. "Sure, I'd call Eeyore a classic example of defeatist nihilism, but I can't call him Nietzschean. I mean, look at him. He's a donkey and his house falls over a lot. According to Nietzsche, his attitude means that he thinks the world should end because he's periodically homeless and I just don't see that._

"_What? No… oh, no. Don't even think about bringing Freud into this. _

"_Because the Freudian interpretation of a __**donkey**__ building a __**tunnel-shaped house**__ out of __**long **__**sticks**__ is enough to give a kid a complex, that's why not. _

"_Look, just watch the dumb cartoon, okay? _

"_Because __**I**__ have to. Mommy said so, or else Kim can't come over. _

"_Kim is __**not**__ a yucky girl. _

"_No, I don't want to __**marry**__ her._

"_No, __**you're**__ in denial!"_

_Mrs. Stoppable peeked her head out from the hallway, watching with grim fascination as her son carried on a heated argument with thin air. While she wasn't exactly thrilled at the idea that his new friend was a little girl, anything was better than Ronnie having no one but Rufus to play with. She was sure, after the novelty wore off and the children got bored of one another, he could use the social skill he built with Kim to make friends with the other little boys his age. Mrs. Possible seemed more than happy to bring her daughter over, and it was less than an hour before the two of them were running in the back yard together._

"_Wow," Kim said, looking up. "This tree's really big. Bet'cha don't know what kind it is…"_

"_Sure I do," he answered confidently. "It's a quercus alba, The North American White Oa--"_

"_Nuh-uh," she interrupted, smiling and shaking her head. "It's a big oak tree!"_

"_But quercus alba is--"_

"_Wanna climb it with me?"_

"_Um… okay, but," he hesitated and looked down. "I never climbed a tree before."_

"_It's easy," she promised, taking his hand. "Here, I'll show you."_

_She led him to the lowest branch then let go, crouching down before she jumped straight up and caught the bough with her little hands. After pulling herself up, she lay down flat on the branch and let down a hand for Ron to grab and together they managed to get him up. About twenty minutes later, Mrs. Stoppable heard shouting behind the house._

"_Mrs. Stoppable! Mrs. Stoppable!" Kim yelled gleefully. "Look how high Ron is! He said he never climbed a tree before, but I taught him and now he's really, really high!"_

"_He's __**what**__?" his mother screeched, turning white as a sheet as she ran into the back yard. _

"_Okay…" Ron said to himself, balancing easily on a branch ten feet off the ground. "Just gotta keep an even weight distribution ratio… stay on the load bearing branches. Yup, no problem. I can climb trees."_

"_**RONNIE**__! YOU GET DOWN FROM THERE BEFORE YOU BREAK YOUR __**NECK**__!"_

_Good news was that it got him down. Bad news… The sound of his mother screaming at him totally broke the boy's concentration, causing him to lose his balance and fall headfirst. He didn't hit the ground directly. The first thing his head collided with was a lower branch. Then a lower one. And a lower one. And a lower one. And __**then**__ it hit the ground. Kim and Mrs. Stoppable rushed to his side as his stiff upside-down form slowly fell flat like some tiny lumberjack had just yelled "timber."_

"_Ron, are you okay?" Kim her worried face inches away from his until Mrs. Stoppable pulled her away to get a better look at her son._

"_Ronnie? __**Ronnie**__? Say something, Sweetie!" _

_Lazily, the boy's eyes drifted open. His mouth curled into a vaguely goofy smile and then it opened to let out just one word. _

"_Booyah"_

"Felix Says the Darndest Things"  
part 1: Dating Woes

"_Dude, we have __**got**__ to find you a girl one of these days."_

"_Uh-huh," he muttered darkly. "Exactly what part of '__**no feeling**__ from the waist __**down**__' is so hard for you to understand? Dumbass." _

"Felix Says the Darndest Things"  
part 2: Can't We All Just Get Along?

"_You're asking me to keep your brain from turning to mush in front of a pretty girl. A pretty girl that actually __**wants**__ to kiss you. Why not just ask me to part Lake Middleton? Hey, while I'm at, why don't I head over to the Gaza Strip and organize an Israeli/Palestinian softball league? I obviously don't have anything better to do tonight."  
_

"Felix Says the Darndest Things"  
part 3: Pas un travestie typical

"_Thanks a lot, buddy. Ron out," Ron said warmly as he shut off his Kimmunicator. "Well, guys, I'm off. Sorry about tonight, Felix. We'll definitely catch up soon."_

"_Yeah, sure," he said, glumly. "Maybe if I go out and buy a red wig and get some ridiculously pointy breasts, you'll want to hang out more."_

_Ron and Monique stared down at him unblinkingly._

"_Not that I'd __**want**__ to do something like that," he said, his eyes shifting nervously back and forth.  
_

Best. "Spines" Hatfield Line. Ever.

"If you'll think back for a moment, Sir, you'll remember that I've been here on the _Ron_ since **before** the _Monique_ was transferred to our area of operations," she reminded him. "There isn't anything I've seen that you haven't."

"I suppose you're right," the captain admitted., settling back into his seat and pressing the COM switch. "Spines… anything?"

"Damn it, Rick. I'm a doctor… with man parts."

* * *

"**ARRIVING" ATTRACTIONS**

**The following preview has been approved for ALL AUDIENCES by the Fanfiction Authority**

**Coming soon, to a browser near you…**

"Have ye ever made anythin' happen? Anythin' ye could'nae explain?"

There was a gleam in the large man's eyes that showed that he'd known the answer to the question before he'd asked it. He grinned from one end of his shaggy brown beard to the other.

"Ye're a witch, lass."

Her green eyes widened and, momentarily forgetting all about hiding her braces, her mouth dropped open.

"I'm a what?"

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The envelope he'd pulled from the sporran on his kilt, the one addressed to **Ms. K. Possible, The Shoe Closet in the Attic**, floated down to her feet as she gaped at the letter she held in her hands.

"Dear Ms. Possible," she read aloud. "We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry…"

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

In the candlelit hallway, the gaggle of black robed eleven-year-olds, halted as the professor turned just short of the oversized double doors. Gravely, he gave them another appraising stare before addressing them.

"Listen up, people! In a few moments, you will pass through these doors, and join your classmates. I want a tight formation and no funny business. First years, fall IN!"

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"You amateurs should watch yourselves on these staircases," the older boy said, glancing spitefully behind him. "They tend not to maintain their positions."

The redheaded girl peered cautiously over the side, even as the staircase beneath them slowly shifted, stretching to reach the open archway. Without realizing it, she inched closer to the blond boy next to her as he held the guardrail in a terrified death grip.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

She glanced nervously at the wooden handle of her new broom, trying not to feel totally ridiculous as she stood with her classmates on the grassy courtyard. The instructor wasn't exactly helping. That hair…

"'Kay, all you mini-chicks and micro-dudes," he said. "Just stick out your right arm, hold it over your ride, and say 'up.' But you got to put some juice behind it, seriously."

Not sure what to expect, she looked at the broomstick intently.

"Up!" she shouted, not giving herself time to think better of it, and was amazed as it shot into her waiting hand on the first try.

"Um… Mr. L?" came a familiar quivering voice to her left, causing to forget her little victory. "Somehow I don't think I'm supposed to be CLIMBING UP INTO THE LOWER STRATOSPHERE!!!"

"Whoa, little dude!" the instructor shouted back. "Seriously, where do you think you're going? Totally not finished with the lessonage here, sh'a."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"So the… uh… scar?" asked the freckled boy, uncertainly. "Could I, maybe… you know… see it?"

She hesitated, the teasing from her cousins very fresh in her mind, but he was looking at her so intently that she finally moved aside the curtain of red hair blocking it. Instinctively, she braced herself for the inevitable look of disgust on his face and the nasty things he'd say. It was a real shock to see him smiling again, gazing up at her scar in reverent wonder.

"Badical!"

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Black painted lips curled into a wicked smirk as the professor sauntered down the aisle of the classroom, teaching robes open to reveal the tight green and black outfit underneath.

"Ms. Possible…" the words practically dripping from her mouth. "The wizarding world's own perfect little _Princess_."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The headmaster wasted no word or movement as he spoke. His hands remained where they were crossed in front of him, each resting in the other arm's sleeve. The tight knot of white hair on the crown of his otherwise bare head remained still as he kept his gaze steady.

"First year students should note that the Dark Forest is strictly forbidden…" the old wizard announced, calmly.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The girl, clad in her black robe and a red and gold scarf, peered through the darkness of the woods into the clearing, watching as the bent and hooded figure stalked through the mist. The dark-haired boy beside her, similarly robed but wearing a scarf of green and white, seemed to be trying to decide whether to run screaming or wet himself.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"…That no magic is to be used between the classes and the corridors…"

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The smaller boy raised his wand, a cocky smile growing on his round face.

"_Petrificus Totalus_," he said in a clear voice as the wand made a sign in the air.

They watched as the gangly boy in front of them suddenly stopped trembling. In fact, he stopped moving altogether, arms snapping to his sides and legs jammed together.

"Oh, man, that was so cool!" the blond said, running up to their newly immobilized housemate. "Hey, if I touch him, do you think he'd be cold?"

Not waiting for an answer, he eagerly raised a finger to the boy's forehead. The light touch sent the rigid captive falling back to the hard, stone floor with a resounding thud.

"Oops… he didn't feel that, right?"

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"… And that the third floor corridor is out of bounds to everyone who does not wish to suffer a most painful death."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Aren't you coming?" she asked the mocha skinned boy when she noticed he wasn't following.

"Guys, before I came to Hogwarts, I didn't even like to leave my bedroom," he practically shouted. "So no, _I_ am not coming. _I_ am getting my big-boned child prodigy butt to bed. You two should really think about taking it easy before you end up dead."

He turned and scrambled halfway up the stairs before looking over his shoulder.

"Or worse…" he continued, grimly. "Expelled."

They watched as he climbed the rest of way to the boy's dorm before they turned and shared a puzzled look.

"Well, at least the man has his priorities straight," the blond said, not sounding at all convinced of that fact, himself.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

He looked her dead in the face, making sure she knew he was serious. Long ago, he'd learned that it took a great deal of effort to make anyone take a man in a skirt seriously.

"Understand this, lassie, 'cause it's ferr important," he urged her. "Not all wizards are good'uns."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The pale witch halted for a moment, her clawed glove still hovering under the Defense professor's pronounced chin. From beneath the fabric of the cloak, the girl watched as the Potions Mistress raised her arm and reached out into the darkness, only missing her by inches with every grasp.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The bright golden glow around her finally faded as she stared, still transfixed, at the deceptively ordinary looking stick in her hand. From behind the counter, the old man regarded the girl closely, then turned and whispered to the woman standing next to him again.

"He wishes to say," she translated, "that he believes it is clear that we can expect great things from you."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

**Kim Possible and the Sorcerer's Stone**

**Experience the Magic…**

**Soon**

* * *

**The following preview has been approved for ALL AUDIENCES by the Fanfiction Authority**

**Coming soon, to a browser near you…**

"Captain, the hormone levels are off the charts!" a voice shouted from off to the side.

"The core temperature's spiking. Any more and we'll have a full blown fever."

Another voice.

"I don't understand…"

Still another voice. Behind him. It's Indlebe this time.

"They're just not responding," he said.

"Who?" Haupt asked intently. "Who's not responding?"

"Nobody, er… I mean everybody. No…," the lieutenant growled in frustration. "I mean no one's responding. I'm sending orders to every COM station on every deck of every bone, muscle, and organ. Nobody's talking back."

"Oh, my," the navigator faked a gasp. "Whatever could have them all _so_ preoccupied?"

"You don't know?" the helmsman asked, astounded. "It's her! She's got her legs wrapped around us like a stripper pole and if she starts grinding any harder we're gonna need new shields."

As if to confirm his statement, Luloni pointed up to the main view screen which was currently showing an extreme close up of the ship in question. Every one on board could recognize the expression on her face.

_Hunger_.

"If we live through this," Propriov deadpanned, "I have got to teach you the concept of sarcasm."

"Captain, I have successfully gained access to the unidentified program's operating code," the Science Officer broke in, also deadpanning.

"Excellent, Mr. Frege," the captain reveled in the first good new since this mess had started. "Shut it down, now!"

"Captain, that would be extremely ill-advi--" Frege began, sounding almost determined.

"Shut it down, Frege," Haupt countered, fiercely. "That's an **order**!"

"Yes, Captain," the dutiful brain cell relented. "Initializing program termination… now."

As the last commands were keyed in at his interface, the lights in the bridge instantly regained their usual brightness. The nauseating rise and fall of the deck ceased as the stabilizers powered on.

"There," the captain grinned victoriously. "Maybe now we can get down to--"

"Captain! We have MASSIVE** BLOOD LOSS**!"

"Where? When…? How could there have been a hull breach?" Haupt's brief moment of optimism was shattered as he hurled questions at the officer monitoring the ship's circulatory processes. "Out with it, man! Did she **bite** us or something?"

"No, Sir…" the red-shirted officer answered, looking equally perplexed. "It doesn't make any sense. There's no hull breach. I don't even think any blood has actually _left_ the body, but I'm still getting huge red flags at the system for blood loss and… No… It's us! The blood's draining from us, from the brain!"

"That's impossible!" the captain shouted frantically. "If blood was leaving the brain the lights--"

Before Capt. Haupt could finish his sentence, the cabin lights flickered out. Not dim, like a few moments before. Completely out.

"Mr. Frege," a weak voice spoke in the darkness.

"Yes, Captain," the Science Officer answered, sounding totally unaffected by the turn of events.

"Why was shutting down that program…?"

"'Extremely ill-advised,' Captain?"

"Yes, that. Why was it that?" he asked, fear creeping into his voice.

"During decryption process, Captain, I discovered a coded message recorded by Captain Pate."

Haupt cringed at the mention of the _Ron_'s previous captain. If Pate had set up that program, he'd had a good reason to do it. Pushing aside his dread, the current captain asked a question with almost no chance of an answer that would justify his decision.

"You wouldn't happen to remember what the message said, would you?"

"'Captain Cesar Pate, _H. S. S. Ron Stoppable_,'" said Frege, in what had to be a pitch perfect imitation. "'Stardate 1060.7… If you're receiving this message, it means that, somehow, this ship has survived all of this. A group of our few remaining brain cells spent days working on this program, but it's too late to do us any good. Like I said, if you're getting this, we won and this program is already up and running. Under no circumstances can you **ever** try to alter it. Sure the side effects can be annoying, but it's better than taking the chance of that… thing getting loose. It won't be long now… The rest of the body's totally unresponsive. They've drained most of the blood out of the command deck. Trapped us in here… our mighty control center is little more than a cage to us, now. The cage won't keep them out forever. We hear them... clawing their way up…

"'They're coming…'

"'_They're coming_…'"

**Side-Trekked: "…Where No Man Has Gone Before"**

**Coming sooner than you think…**


	8. With Commentary

**SPECIAL FEATURES**

**Deleted/Extended Scenes**

**To view without creator commentary, please go to the previous chapter…**

**You have chosen to view the Deleted Scenes WITH creator commentary by Brother Bludgeon. **

* * *

"Alternate Opening"

**This was my first attempt at writing "Boldly Go," and I think I made the right decision to take it in another direction. **

"Captain's log, stardate 7032.3" a casual baritone voice spoke into his station's built-in recording device. "I find myself in a rare, quiet moment aboard this ship. I'd like to take this time to pause and reflect, something I'd been hoping to do much earlier, in light of this vessel's recent anniversary. Eighteen years… my God, has it really been that long?

"Eighteen years and four days ago, this ship was launched into active duty. Not the fastest ship, or the best armed, and yet with a service record some would give anything for. In no way the prettiest, but with an… undeniable charm, a sort of magnetic attraction that pulls you in at first glance. I'm not the first man to fill this seat. I only hope, when the time comes, I can step down as gracefully as my predecessors…"

**As you can see, I kept the beginning part. Doesn't necessarily mean that I liked it, but it definitely struck a Star Trek chord, so I left it in. Here's where it starts to break off.**

All around him, men in brightly colored sweaters looked down at their various consoles, making a tiny adjustment to one of a dozen flashing knobs or dials. If there was nothing to fiddle with, he'd just have to sit quietly and wait.

"I'm sure I could say the same for any of my crew. They've lived and loved and bled for this ship, I couldn't have asked for better comrades on my journey. . I'd like to think, despite all our differences, we've come to form a kind of family here. Even Mr. Frege, who started out as Science Officer, later becoming my trusty First Officer, how far the two of us have come…"

A few paces to the captain's right, Lieutenant Commander Frege tried keep busy running systems diagnostics, knowing in advance that all systems were functioning within normal limits. Mr. Frege was not clairvoyant, nor did he believe such things existed. Logic dictated that running the exact same checks he'd been running all morning had a ninety-nine point two five nine percent chance of yielding predictable results. It was a simple, repetitive task, but sometimes he felt like it was the only thing that kept the veins on his scalp from bursting whenever the captain went off on one of his soliloquies.

**When it came down to it, I couldn't continue with this. Captain Haupt could be a braggart, a hothead, a chauvinist pig, and pretty much everything else Shatner threw into the role of Kirk, but I couldn't have him be a totally useless blowhard. My original idea was to have him introduce all the major characters by mentioning them in his log and being really melodramatic and long-winded about it. Scrapped that idea when I realized that I was tired of **_**writing**_** it, and I was only at the beginning. I'm glad I got rid of this first bit because, otherwise, you might not be reading this fic at all. **

"The Littlest Anti-Semite"

**As you can tell by the title I came up with, you're in for a real treat here. **

"_Don't lie to me, Stoppable," an angry Conrad warned. "I know you got something for us."_

"_Yeah, we __**know**__ you got something, Jew boy!" Steve piped up, eagerly. "Don't you guys always keep little bags of Jew gold around your necks or something?"_

**Yes, I did steal that idea from South Park, but I'm sure they stole it from someone that actually hates Jews.**

_For a second, time stood still. No one made a sound, not even to breathe. Almost involuntarily, the bullies seemed to edge themselves away from their diminutive cohort, who now looked up at them with slight confusion. _

"_Oh, whoa whoa! Time out!" shouted Vinnie, making a "T" sign with his hands. "Li'l Steve. Anti-Semitism. __**Not**__ cool. We don't do that. Ever. If a kid is fat, go ahead call him 'fattie.' If a kid's smarter than you and he dresses bad, call him a 'nerd' and knock his books on the floor. If a kid has a last name that even __**sounds**__ like 'butt,' heck, go crazy. Not this. __**Never**__ this. This doesn't happen again. Are we clear?"_

**I'll be the first to acknowledge that most bullies aren't this conscientious about bigotry. I just figure that if anybody said that in a Disney cartoon, the whole thing would turn into an after school special faster than you can say "lawsuit." **

"_Yeah, we're clear," answered Steve, shamefacedly scuffing his shoe against the floor. "Sorry, Stoppable."_

"_Dude, Stoppable, I'm really sorry about this," added Junior, before turning to mutter in Steve's direction. "See, __**this**__ is why we don't let him talk for himself! Nazi midget bastard." _

"_Junior!" said Vinnie, whipping his head around to face him. "Man, that is not helping. The correct term is 'little person.' Two wrongs, Man. Two wrongs."_

**And coming up now is the line that almost made me want to put this bit in the actual story…**

"_Okay, okay… sorry, Li'l Steve," he responded reluctantly, before adding under his breath. "Little _**nazi**_ person."_

**That's the one. **

"_Look, Stoppable, this is going downhill fast," Vinnie reasoned. "Just give us the money, man. We don't look bad, you don't look any worse than you did all those other times, and you just stay out of D-Hall 'til you graduate. Everybody wins."_

"_You really expect me to give you anything after… that?" said Ron, anger slipping into his voice. _

"_I'm not saying it wasn't out of line. It was. And it ain't happening again, I can promise you that. This ain't about that. This is D-Hall. We __**own**__ D-Hall. We let you walk out, we don't own D-Hall anymore. Steve doesn't think before he talks. He said he was sorry. Just make it easy on yourself and give us the money, okay?"_

"_And if I don't?" Sensing his cue, Conrad filled the gap that had formed between them and brought his oversized fist in front of Ron's face._

"_Oh, right," he said, nervously._

**And that's pretty much why I couldn't use this extended version of this scene. Ron may be the cowardly sidekick most of the time, but there was no way I could let him take that kind of garbage. I didn't want this story to turn into anything political, so I dropped it. I'm not about the hate. I'm about the love. And violence. **

"Flippy Pages"

**I love this scene. I do. I just didn't have anyplace to put it. No matter where I tried, this incredibly long flashback just wouldn't fit anywhere. I'm presenting it to you now, along with my own little discourse on Ron Stoppable and his intermittent brain power.**

**Here's what I think. The clearest picture of Ron Stoppable as a young child came in the "Past" episode of "A Sitch in Time." Even though the three villains being little kids didn't survive the change after the Tempus Simia broke, it's still Kim and Ron as themselves. So, what do we see little Ron doing at Pre-Kindergarten? We see him lecturing the other children about the perils of playground anarchy and using the word "opposable" properly in a sentence. **

**I'm here to suggest that the reason why Ron Stoppable was considered the "weird kid" even back then was not because of his use of made up words and general childlike wonder, or even his giant imaginary friend. All that stuff is normal to a four-year-old. **

**I put it to you that Ron Stoppable was a child prodigy.**

**That's where this came from…**

"_Ronnie?" Mrs. Stoppable shouted from the living room, noticing the television was on but no one was watching. "What are you doing?"_

"_Playing 'flippy pages,' Mommy!" a four-year-old Ron Stoppable called out from his father's home office. _

_She found her son sitting in her husband's leather desk chair with a hardback book in his lap that looked about twice as thick as his arm. "Flippy pages" was a game little Ronnie had invented at age three. He would take any book he could get his hands on, the thicker the better, and set it in his lap. Then, he would tilt the book on its side and, using his thumb to keep them all from going at once, he would watch the pages as they fell like it was some giant flip book. _

"_Ronnie, how many times have I told you not to play 'flippy pages' with Mommy and Daddy's books?" she asked, gently lifting the book and putting it back where he'd taken it from the bookshelf that served as Mr. and Mrs. Stoppable's personal library. _

_She took a quick glance at the book's spine and saw that it was one of her textbooks she'd kept from college, "A History of Western Philosophy." _

**Keep this in mind. It'll be important later.**

"_Why don't you go and watch some TV?" she asked hopefully._

"_I tried, but it was too boring," said Ronnie, sadly. "Can I play 'flippy pages' some more, __**please**__?" _

_He looked past her to the shelf, then back up into her eyes, pleading. With a sigh, she reached down and picked her son up, carrying him back into the living room to set him back down in front of the TV. _

**I never saw Mr. and Mrs. Stoppable as the world's most attentive parents. That's actually going to be a recurring theme in a lot of my upcoming stories.**

"_It's not nice to play with other people's things without asking," she said sternly. "I'd be more willing to let you play if you'd just use your own books."_

"_But I already know all the stuff in all my books," he whined. "I want to play with yours!"_

_Neither she nor her husband could understand what that was all about. He would play with a book for a few minutes, and then never pick it up again. They'd tried to get him to go back to his own books but he'd always say he'd played with it already. Once they'd even tried to fool him by putting a new cover on an old book, but somehow he saw right through it. Not wanting to go through all of this again, she decided to change her tactics. _

"_Sweetie, you know that little red-haired girl from your class you told your father and me about?" _

"_Yeah!" he said, happily. "Her name's Kim and she's fun and she's nice and she can jump really high and do flips and cartwheels and--"_

"_Yes, that's her," she said, cutting in. "Why don't I call her parents and have them bring her over this afternoon to play with you?"_

"_Really?" the little boy beamed. "Can she?"_

"_I'll call and find out, but you have to be good and watch your cartoons while you wait, okay?"_

_The freckled child seemed to think it over for half a second before nodding. His smile drooped a bit when he turned back to the spot in front of the TV. He looked back up at her, as if to ask if he really had to do it, but she didn't budge. With a tiny sigh, he walked over and plopped down. Satisfied, Mrs. Stoppable went to go find her address book to look up the number she'd gotten from Kim's mother last week on the kids' first day of Pre-Kindergarten. _

**The whole "play-date" thing, I'm sure, was around when they were little. When I was a kid, that didn't really happen. You pretty much had to bug your folks for hours if your friends didn't live within walking or bike-riding distance. **

_Back in the living room, her son sat cross-legged on the carpet, cradling his face in his hands as he watched the whimsically animated images amble across the screen. At one point, he lifted his head and looked to his left, not like he was staring off into space but as if there were someone very tall seated in the space next to him. After a moment, Ronnie looked back at the TV, scrunching his face in contemplation._

"_I don't know, Rufus," he said, finally. "Sure, I'd call Eeyore a classic example of defeatist nihilism, but I can't call him Nietzschean. I mean, look at him. He's a donkey and his house falls over a lot. According to Nietzsche, his attitude means that he thinks the world should end because he's periodically homeless and I just don't see that._

"_What? No… oh, no. Don't even think about bringing Freud into this. _

"_Because the Freudian interpretation of a __**donkey**__ building a __**tunnel-shaped house**__ out of __**long **__**sticks**__ is enough to give a kid a complex, that's why not. _

"_Look, just watch the dumb cartoon, okay? _

"_Because __**I**__ have to. Mommy said so, or else Kim can't come over. _

"_Kim is __**not**__ a yucky girl. _

"_No, I don't want to __**marry**__ her._

"_No, __**you're**__ in denial!"_

**I honestly don't care if anybody else gets it at this point. That whole conversation with Rufus was my own little gift to me.**

_Mrs. Stoppable peeked her head out from the hallway, watching with grim fascination as her son carried on a heated argument with thin air. While she wasn't exactly thrilled at the idea that his new friend was a little girl, anything was better than Ronnie having no one but Rufus to play with. She was sure, after the novelty wore off and the children got bored of one another, he could use the social skill he built with Kim to make friends with the other little boys his age. Mrs. Possible seemed more than happy to bring her daughter over, and it was less than an hour before the two of them were running in the back yard together._

"_Wow," Kim said, looking up. "This tree's really big. Bet'cha don't know what kind it is…"_

"_Sure I do," he answered confidently. "It's a quercus alba, The North American White Oa--"_

"_Nuh-uh," she interrupted, smiling and shaking her head. "It's a big oak tree!"_

"_But quercus alba is--"_

"_Wanna climb it with me?"_

"_Um… okay, but," he hesitated and looked down. "I never climbed a tree before."_

"_It's easy," she promised, taking his hand. "Here, I'll show you."_

**To me, this is part and parcel of the whole "You're weird, but I like you" dynamic of their early relationship. A four-year-old Kim, bright as she might have been, couldn't begin to **_**pronounce**_** the words little Ron was saying off the top of his head, but she's still correcting him so, in her mind, she's the smart one. This becomes a self-fulfilling prophesy. Watch closely.**

_She led him to the lowest branch then let go, crouching down before she jumped straight up and caught the bough with her little hands. After pulling herself up, she lay down flat on the branch and let down a hand for Ron to grab and together they managed to get him up. About twenty minutes later, Mrs. Stoppable heard shouting behind the house._

"_Mrs. Stoppable! Mrs. Stoppable!" Kim yelled gleefully. "Look how high Ron is! He said he never climbed a tree before, but I taught him and now he's really, really high!"_

"_He's __**what**__?" his mother screeched, turning white as a sheet as she ran into the back yard. _

"_Okay…" Ron said to himself, balancing easily on a branch ten feet off the ground. "Just gotta keep an even weight distribution ratio… stay on the load bearing branches. Yup, no problem. I can climb trees."_

"_**RONNIE**__! YOU GET DOWN FROM THERE BEFORE YOU BREAK YOUR __**NECK**__!"_

_Good news was that it got him down. Bad news… The sound of his mother screaming at him totally broke the boy's concentration, causing him to lose his balance and fall headfirst. He didn't hit the ground directly. The first thing his head collided with was a lower branch. Then a lower one. And a lower one. And a lower one. And __**then**__ it hit the ground. Kim and Mrs. Stoppable rushed to his side as his stiff upside-down form slowly fell flat like some tiny lumberjack had just yelled "timber."_

"_Ron, are you okay?" Kim her worried face inches away from his until Mrs. Stoppable pulled her away to get a better look at her son._

"_Ronnie? __**Ronnie**__? Say something, Sweetie!" _

_Lazily, the boy's eyes drifted open. His mouth curled into a vaguely goofy smile and then it opened to let out just one word. _

"_Booyah"_

**Again, I really really REALLY wanted to fit his into the story proper, but it wasn't to be. I hope you got a kick out of it anyway.**

"Felix Says the Darndest Things"  
part 1: Dating Woes

**This section is dedicated to Middleton High's favorite paraplegic… You know what, I can't even do a commentary without sounding offensive. You can imagine how hard it was to write dialogue.**

"_Dude, we have __**got**__ to find you a girl one of these days."_

"_Uh-huh," he muttered darkly. "Exactly what part of '__**no feeling**__ from the waist __**down**__' is so hard for you to understand? Dumbass." _

**I cut this bit out, despite the fact that I thought it was funny, because I felt like it was too depressing. No one really addresses this very real medical complication in other stories with Felix. They always seem to leave him his wedding tackle, so I guess I will, too.**

"Felix Says the Darndest Things"  
part 2: Can't We All Just Get Along?

"_You're asking me to keep your brain from turning to mush in front of a pretty girl. A pretty girl that actually __**wants**__ to kiss you. Why not just ask me to part Lake Middleton? Hey, while I'm at, why don't I head over to the Gaza Strip and organize an Israeli/Palestinian softball league? I obviously don't have anything better to do tonight."_

**This just came across as insensitive. The conflict in Israel is something that I take very seriously. Not seriously enough that this joke couldn't pop into my head, apparently, but I still couldn't put it in.**_  
_

"Felix Says the Darndest Things"  
part 3: Pas un travestie typical

"_Thanks a lot, buddy. Ron out," Ron said warmly as he shut off his Kimmunicator. "Well, guys, I'm off. Sorry about tonight, Felix. We'll definitely catch up soon."_

"_Yeah, sure," he said, glumly. "Maybe if I go out and buy a red wig and get some ridiculously pointy breasts, you'll want to hang out more."_

_Ron and Monique stared down at him unblinkingly._

"_Not that I'd __**want**__ to do something like that," he said, his eyes shifting nervously back and forth._

**No. Comment.**_  
_

Best. "Spines" Hatfield Line. Ever.

**Have you ever come up with a joke that made you laugh for like two straight minutes when you came up with it, and you weren't even on drugs? I've had that a couple of times. Of course, what I've come to realize is that those things that really make me just break out belly-laughing at my own joke just plain aren't funny to anyone else on the planet. **

**You may have noticed that Mr. "Spines" Hatfield didn't have any lines in the last chapter of "To Boldly Go…", and this is why:**

"If you'll think back for a moment, Sir, you'll remember that I've been here on the _Ron_ since **before** the _Monique_ was transferred to our area of operations," she reminded him. "There isn't anything I've seen that you haven't."

"I suppose you're right," the captain admitted., settling back into his seat and pressing the COM switch. "Spines… anything?"

"Damn it, Rick. I'm a doctor… with man parts."

* * *

"**ARRIVING" ATTRACTIONS**

**The following preview has been approved for ALL AUDIENCES by the Fanfiction Authority**

**Coming soon, to a browser near you…**

"Have ye ever made anythin' happen? Anythin' ye could'nae explain?"

There was a gleam in the large man's eyes that showed that he'd known the answer to the question before he'd asked it. He grinned from one end of his shaggy brown beard to the other.

"Ye're a witch, lass."

Her green eyes widened and, momentarily forgetting all about hiding her braces, her mouth dropped open.

"I'm a what?"

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The envelope he'd pulled from the sporran on his kilt, the one addressed to **Ms. K. Possible, The Shoe Closet in the Attic**, floated down to her feet as she gaped at the letter she held in her hands.

"Dear Ms. Possible," she read aloud. "We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry…"

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

In the candlelit hallway, the gaggle of black robed eleven-year-olds, halted as the professor turned just short of the oversized double doors. Gravely, he gave them another appraising stare before addressing them.

"Listen up, people! In a few moments, you will pass through these doors, and join your classmates. I want a tight formation and no funny business. First years, fall IN!"

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"You amateurs should watch yourselves on these staircases," the older boy said, glancing spitefully behind him. "They tend not to maintain their positions."

The redheaded girl peered cautiously over the side, even as the staircase beneath them slowly shifted, stretching to reach the open archway. Without realizing it, she inched closer to the blond boy next to her as he held the guardrail in a terrified death grip.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

She glanced nervously at the wooden handle of her new broom, trying not to feel totally ridiculous as she stood with her classmates on the grassy courtyard. The instructor wasn't exactly helping. That hair…

"'Kay, all you mini-chicks and micro-dudes," he said. "Just stick out your right arm, hold it over your ride, and say 'up.' But you got to put some juice behind it, seriously."

Not sure what to expect, she looked at the broomstick intently.

"Up!" she shouted, not giving herself time to think better of it, and was amazed as it shot into her waiting hand on the first try.

"Um… Mr. L?" came a familiar quivering voice to her left, causing to forget her little victory. "Somehow I don't think I'm supposed to be CLIMBING UP INTO THE LOWER STRATOSPHERE!!!"

"Whoa, little dude!" the instructor shouted back. "Seriously, where do you think you're going? Totally not finished with the lessonage here, sh'a."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"So the… uh… scar?" asked the freckled boy, uncertainly. "Could I, maybe… you know… see it?"

She hesitated, the teasing from her cousins very fresh in her mind, but he was looking at her so intently that she finally moved aside the curtain of red hair blocking it. Instinctively, she braced herself for the inevitable look of disgust on his face and the nasty things he'd say. It was a real shock to see him smiling again, gazing up at her scar in reverent wonder.

"Badical!"

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Black painted lips curled into a wicked smirk as the professor sauntered down the aisle of the classroom, teaching robes open to reveal the tight green and black outfit underneath.

"Ms. Possible…" the words practically dripping from her mouth. "The wizarding world's own perfect little _Princess_."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The headmaster wasted no word or movement as he spoke. His hands remained where they were crossed in front of him, each resting in the other arm's sleeve. The tight knot of white hair on the crown of his otherwise bare head remained still as he kept his gaze steady.

"First year students should note that the Dark Forest is strictly forbidden…" the old wizard announced, calmly.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The girl, clad in her black robe and a red and gold scarf, peered through the darkness of the woods into the clearing, watching as the bent and hooded figure stalked through the mist. The dark-haired boy beside her, similarly robed but wearing a scarf of green and white, seemed to be trying to decide whether to run screaming or wet himself.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"…That no magic is to be used between the classes and the corridors…"

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The smaller boy raised his wand, a cocky smile growing on his round face.

"_Petrificus Totalus_," he said in a clear voice as the wand made a sign in the air.

They watched as the gangly boy in front of them suddenly stopped trembling. In fact, he stopped moving altogether, arms snapping to his sides and legs jammed together.

"Oh, man, that was so cool!" the blond said, running up to their newly immobilized housemate. "Hey, if I touch him, do you think he'd be cold?"

Not waiting for an answer, he eagerly raised a finger to the boy's forehead. The light touch sent the rigid captive falling back to the hard, stone floor with a resounding thud.

"Oops… he didn't feel that, right?"

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"… And that the third floor corridor is out of bounds to everyone who does not wish to suffer a most painful death."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Aren't you coming?" she asked the mocha skinned boy when she noticed he wasn't following.

"Guys, before I came to Hogwarts, I didn't even like to leave my bedroom," he practically shouted. "So no, _I_ am not coming. _I_ am getting my big-boned child prodigy butt to bed. You two should really think about taking it easy before you end up dead."

He turned and scrambled halfway up the stairs before looking over his shoulder.

"Or worse…" he continued, grimly. "Expelled."

They watched as he climbed the rest of way to the boy's dorm before they turned and shared a puzzled look.

"Well, at least the man has his priorities straight," the blond said, not sounding at all convinced of that fact, himself.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

He looked her dead in the face, making sure she knew he was serious. Long ago, he'd learned that it took a great deal of effort to make anyone take a man in a skirt seriously.

"Understand this, lassie, 'cause it's ferr important," he urged her. "Not all wizards are good'uns."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The pale witch halted for a moment, her clawed glove still hovering under the Defense professor's pronounced chin. From beneath the fabric of the cloak, the girl watched as the Potions Mistress raised her arm and reached out into the darkness, only missing her by inches with every grasp.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The bright golden glow around her finally faded as she stared, still transfixed, at the deceptively ordinary looking stick in her hand. From behind the counter, the old man regarded the girl closely, then turned and whispered to the woman standing next to him again.

"He wishes to say," she translated, "that he believes it is clear that we can expect great things from you."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

**Kim Possible and the Sorcerer's Stone**

**Experience the Magic…**

**Soon**

* * *

**The following preview has been approved for ALL AUDIENCES by the Fanfiction Authority**

**Coming soon, to a browser near you…**

"Captain, the hormone levels are off the charts!" a voice shouted from off to the side.

"The core temperature's spiking. Any more and we'll have a full blown fever."

Another voice.

"I don't understand…"

Still another voice. Behind him. It's Indlebe this time.

"They're just not responding," he said.

"Who?" Haupt asked intently. "Who's not responding?"

"Nobody, er… I mean everybody. No…," the lieutenant growled in frustration. "I mean no one's responding. I'm sending orders to every COM station on every deck of every bone, muscle, and organ. Nobody's talking back."

"Oh, my," the navigator faked a gasp. "Whatever could have them all _so_ preoccupied?"

"You don't know?" the helmsman asked, astounded. "It's her! She's got her legs wrapped around us like a stripper pole and if she starts grinding any harder we're gonna need new shields."

As if to confirm his statement, Luloni pointed up to the main view screen which was currently showing an extreme close up of the ship in question. Every one on board could recognize the expression on her face.

_Hunger_.

"If we live through this," Propriov deadpanned, "I have got to teach you the concept of sarcasm."

"Captain, I have successfully gained access to the unidentified program's operating code," the Science Officer broke in, also deadpanning.

"Excellent, Mr. Frege," the captain reveled in the first good new since this mess had started. "Shut it down, now!"

"Captain, that would be extremely ill-advi--" Frege began, sounding almost determined.

"Shut it down, Frege," Haupt countered, fiercely. "That's an **order**!"

"Yes, Captain," the dutiful brain cell relented. "Initializing program termination… now."

As the last commands were keyed in at his interface, the lights in the bridge instantly regained their usual brightness. The nauseating rise and fall of the deck ceased as the stabilizers powered on.

"There," the captain grinned victoriously. "Maybe now we can get down to--"

"Captain! We have MASSIVE** BLOOD LOSS**!"

"Where? When…? How could there have been a hull breach?" Haupt's brief moment of optimism was shattered as he hurled questions at the officer monitoring the ship's circulatory processes. "Out with it, man! Did she **bite** us or something?"

"No, Sir…" the red-shirted officer answered, looking equally perplexed. "It doesn't make any sense. There's no hull breach. I don't even think any blood has actually _left_ the body, but I'm still getting huge red flags at the system for blood loss and… No… It's us! The blood's draining from us, from the brain!"

"That's impossible!" the captain shouted frantically. "If blood was leaving the brain the lights--"

Before Capt. Haupt could finish his sentence, the cabin lights flickered out. Not dim, like a few moments before. Completely out.

"Mr. Frege," a weak voice spoke in the darkness.

"Yes, Captain," the Science Officer answered, sounding totally unaffected by the turn of events.

"Why was shutting down that program…?"

"'Extremely ill-advised,' Captain?"

"Yes, that. Why was it that?" he asked, fear creeping into his voice.

"During decryption process, Captain, I discovered a coded message recorded by Captain Pate."

Haupt cringed at the mention of the _Ron_'s previous captain. If Pate had set up that program, he'd had a good reason to do it. Pushing aside his dread, the current captain asked a question with almost no chance of an answer that would justify his decision.

"You wouldn't happen to remember what the message said, would you?"

"'Captain Cesar Pate, _H. S. S. Ron Stoppable_,'" said Frege, in what had to be a pitch perfect imitation. "'Stardate 1060.7… If you're receiving this message, it means that, somehow, this ship has survived all of this. A group of our few remaining brain cells spent days working on this program, but it's too late to do us any good. Like I said, if you're getting this, we won and this program is already up and running. Under no circumstances can you **ever** try to alter it. Sure the side effects can be annoying, but it's better than taking the chance of that… thing getting loose. It won't be long now… The rest of the body's totally unresponsive. They've drained all the blood out of the command deck. Trapped us in here… our mighty control center is little more than a cage to us, now. The cage won't keep them out forever. We hear them... clawing their way up…

"'They're coming…'

"'_They're coming_…'"

**Side-Trekked: "…Where No Man Has Gone Before"**

**Coming sooner than you think…**


End file.
